


More Than Alien Mojo

by remivel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remivel/pseuds/remivel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Summary: </strong> Dean was one of Men in Black's best agents. In fact, he's been knee deep in extraterrestrial crap his whole life, and he's gone through more apocalypses than he could care to remember. He thought he's seen it all-- until he and his partner, Sam, were sent out to a routine meteorite crash inspection. What was supposed to be a meteorite turned out to be a golden spaceship, and instead of hitchhiking intergalactic pathogens, it was an alien that took the form of a human male. A very<i>naked</i> human male.</p>
<p>Soon, they discovered that this alien named 'Castiel' was a refugee from a war-torn galaxy.The first of his kind to ever venture to Earth, Castiel agreed to share information about his galaxy and his race in exchange for his relocation on Earth. The only catch was: since Castiel was a new alien species, nobody knew what he was capable of, whether he was as harmless as E.T., or as dangerous as the Predator. And it was Dean's job to keep an eye on him and assess just how much of a threat Castiel could be, and if necessary, eliminate him.</p>
<p>It wasn't a job Dean was looking forward to doing. Especially since he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off him, naked or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [2013 Dean/Castiel Big Bang Challenge](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com)  
> Betaed by: [Savanna](http://jabberwockingly.tumblr.com/), with tons of help from my sister. All remaining mistakes are mine, and will be promptly corrected once found.  
> NYC Resources: [partofmealwaysbelieved](http://partofmealwaysbelieved.tumblr.com/), and [stuffimgoingtohellfor](http://stuffimgoingtohellfor.tumblr.com/)  
> Cheerleader Extraordinaire: [Juliana](http://wingedfreckles.tumblr.com/)  
> Gorgeous art by [my colour](http://mycolour.tumblr.com/). Visit and leave comments at the [Art Masterpost ](http://mycolour.tumblr.com/post/67758146623/title-more-than-alien-mojo-author). Will update with art here soon.
> 
> **Important Note:** I lost a lot of time in making this because my work is very much involved with the relief efforts for Typhoon Haiyan. Now as it is, this story is complete, but not as complete as I wanted it to be (because hello, every good destiel fic needs more porn!). So, to ease my troubled mind, I'll be updating this story with time stamps (of the porny nature) within the next few weeks. If you're still interested, come check it out some time. :)  
>  I'm on tumblr, too, under the same name (remivel), if you wanna follow my frustrations and maybe suggest stuff for the time stamps. Thanks. :)  
> On a related note, if you would like to donate to the victims of Typhoon Haiyan, please go here: [Philippine Red Cross](http://www.redcross.org.ph/). Thank you!

“We might have a situation here.” 

Dean looked up from his phone long enough to see Sam check his watch with a worried expression. “The meteorite is late,” Sam said, before his eyes returned to carefully scanning the night sky. 

Dean checked his phone’s time display and rolled his eyes. 11:37. “It’s only been seven minutes,” Dean said, reluctantly leaving the Busty Asian Beauties mobile site and clearing his Internet history. He pocketed his phone and moved to grab a beer from the Impala’s trunk. “And it’s a _meteorite_. You can’t actually expect it to stick to a schedule,” he added as he popped the trunk open and reached inside. 

“The ETA and landing area are usually never wrong,” Sam countered. “And what’re you doing?” he asked, briefly glancing at Dean before gluing his eyes back to the sky. 

“Getting a beer.” 

“Dean,” Sam said in his ‘you’re-doing-something-stupid-and-I-need-you-to-stop’ voice. “We’re on the clock. If Bobby finds out you’re drinking on the job, he’ll—“ 

“Relax, Sammy. It’s only one bottle,” he said, fishing out a bottle from the cooler and raising it for Sam to see. “Just this one. It’ll hardly be a blip on my radar.” 

“The last time you got drunk—“ 

“I’m not looking to get drunk right now,” Dean interrupted. 

Sam ignored him and continued. “—You overslept and the planet almost got incinerated by a rogue intergalactic death ray.” 

“ _Almost_ ,” Dean pointed out before he popped the cap open and took a swig. He made a blissed-out expression as the cool liquid quenched his thirst. Then he looked at Sam and grinned. “We’re still here, aren’t we?” 

“Only because we were lucky it dissipated before it could reach Earth,” Sam said. 

“We always get lucky,” Dean argued. “That’s why we’re still alive,” he said, leaning on the side of his car with his head tilted upward. It was a clear night and this far out from any city, the stars were a breathtaking sight. He supposed he could help Sam out a little and be on the lookout for that meteorite too. “And hey, you know that’s unfair,” Dean said. “I was only 5 minutes late that day, and even if I got to MIB headquarters on time, we still couldn’t have stopped that death ray.” 

Sam spared him a look. “You’re right. There was nothing we could’ve done. We were helpless,” he agreed, and Dean fell silent, remembering that day not more than two months ago. 

They’ve never come that close to Armageddon without an actual way out before. There had always been something they could do to prevent the end of the world: killing the megalomaniacal alien hell bent on taking over the world; stopping the spread of an intergalactic plague; and even just making a conference call and negotiating with alien leaders to stop an impending attack. But that day was different. There was nothing they could do as they just watched the timer count down to the death ray’s impact. 

Dean looked at his brother as Sam continued to diligently scan the sky for falling rocks. He remembered how he stood beside him that day, thinking that was it. They were going to die. Then the timer reached zero and nothing happened. The death ray disappeared. The world kept on spinning. And he remembered the relieved chuckle that escaped Sam’s throat and just like that, everything was okay again. They were lucky. Very lucky. 

“Which is why…”Sam said, stirring Dean out of his thoughts, “…I’d like to give my 100% for all those times when we could actually _do_ something about it.” 

Dean smiled. “I hear ‘ya,” he said. “But I’m still gonna finish this beer,” he added before taking a long swig off his bottle. “Waste not, right?” he said with a grin. 

Sam rolled his eyes, but this time he shared his brother’s grin. “You know, if this takes any longer, I might need a drink too…” 

“I’ve got more at the back—“ 

“Coke, Dean. I need coke,” Sam clarified. 

“Ha!” Dean huffed. “If we’re gonna talk about the last time I got drunk, we should also talk about the last time you got coke—“ 

“Oh come on!” Sam complained. 

“Dude, the illegal alien _escaped_ —“ Dean stopped abruptly when he spotted headlights coming their way. “Hey, we’ve got company,” Dean warned Sam, nodding towards the direction of the oncoming vehicle. A part of him hoped the driver would just drive past them and mind his own business, but a larger part of him knew that two men in suits standing on the side of a muddy dirt road in the middle of nowhere was something that was a little too suspicious to ignore. 

Sure enough, the vehicle slowed down and stopped right in front of them. It was an old, beat up pickup truck covered in a layer of dust so thick, you would think it was made of dirt instead of metal. Dean tried not to cringe. He could never imagine reducing Baby to that sorry state. 

The window creaked as it rolled down and an old, balding man stuck his head out of the window. “You boys lost?” 

“No, sir,” Sam answered with an easy smile. “We’re astronomy enthusiasts and this is the best place to see tonight’s meteor shower,” he explained. 

“Is that so?” the old man asked. 

“Oh yeah,” Dean grinned. “Heard tonight’s shower is gonna be a blast.” 

“You make it a habit to stargaze in suits?” he asked, squinting over his glasses to give them a long, scrutinizing once over. “Last week I saw a couple of teenagers parked here and smokin’ something funny. Had to call the sheriff on them ‘cause next thing you know, they’d be robbing banks and murdering people. Can’t be too careful nowadays.” 

“Oh we understand completely,” Dean said, all while trying not to look at the old man like he’s the one smoking something funny. “Those teenagers,” he shook his head. “They’ll burn the whole country down if you don’t keep a watchful eye on them.” 

“You don’t have to worry about us,” Sam chimed in. “No teenagers here. Just a couple of tax accountants. Came here right after a long day’s work. We don’t even smoke cigarettes.” 

The old man kept his gaze at Sam’s face for a couple more seconds before he finally said, “Alright. You boys have fun stargazin’ then,” he said. Sam could be really convincing when he needed to be. Probably the aspiring lawyer in him talking. 

“Will do! Thanks,” Dean said. 

The old man just nodded before he rolled his window back up and drove away, leaving the two alone again. 

“Thank god, I thought that old man wasn’t going to leave,” Dean said, watching the dim taillights of that poor truck get smaller and smaller with distance. 

“Well it’s good that he did. The meteorite’s gonna crash any time now. It’d be dangerous for a civilian to be nearby,” Sam said, checking his watch once more before his eyes returned to the sky. “It’s now 20 minutes late, Dean. You still think there’s nothing to worry about?” 

Dean sighed. “Fine. I’ll give Bobby a call,” he said, pulling his phone out again. He was about to press the speed dial for Bobby’s office number when something bright glinted off his phone’s screen. He turned around and lifted his gaze to the sky. Almost at the same time, he heard Sam’s relieved sigh. “Finally.” 

And there it was: a large piece of flaming space rock hurtling towards Earth at an astonishing speed—and heading straight for them. 

Unperturbed by this, Dean and Sam just pulled their Ray-Bans out and wore them to protect their eyes from the bright light of the meteorite. But even with the protection of their specialized shades, the light still stung Dean’s eyes and he had to close them just as the meteorite flew over their heads. A moment later, he heard a deafening boom that shook the ground and enveloped them in a giant cloud of dust. 

When the dust settled, Dean pulled off his shades and searched the area for the meteorite’s landing site. He spotted the crater in the middle of an empty farmland not a mile away from them. 

“Well at least the predicted landing area had been accurate,” Sam said, shaking dirt free from his hair. 

Dean brushed off the dirt on his suit jacket as he walked to the other side of the road closer to the crater. “So, any thoughts?” 

“Not a meteorite,” Sam said immediately. 

“Uh-huh, crash was too clean, no fragments. Rock that big would’ve made a bigger crater too. So, you thinking what I’m thinking?” Dean asked. 

“I’d say it was more of a hard landing than a crash,” Sam said. 

“Unauthorized spacecraft landing it is,” Dean agreed. “Now why don’t we go there and see what we’re dealing with here? And if I need to use my cuffs,” he said as he walked back to his car. 

Sam chuckled, going to the passenger side and opening his door. “You mean _if_ you can use your cuffs. Remember the escaped convict from Singalee?” 

Dean shuddered as he opened his door and hopped in. “Never looked at Jello the same way again.” 

+++ 

There were a lot of things Dean expected to see once they got close enough to the crater. He’d seen enough alien life forms and alien ships in his time at MIB that hardly anything surprised him anymore. But, he’d have to say, this one was a shocker. 

In the middle of the crater was a golden ball the size of a Mini Coop, glowing symbols and lines intricately weaved around its metallic surface and pulsed with some sort of electric current. 

“You seen anything like this before?” Sam asked Dean. 

Dean tilted his head. “It looks like a giant golden snitch—without the wings.” 

“A giant what?” Sam asked in the two seconds before he got the reference. “In any case, that’s not in the MIB’s Known Spacecraft Database,” Sam said. 

“You memorized the MIB’s Known Spacecraft Database?” Dean asked incredulously. 

“What? I thought it’d come in handy someday, and it did,” Sam said with a shrug. “So, should we call for back up?” 

Dean considered the seemingly harmless spacecraft in front of them and briefly thought what that old man would think if he saw this. 

As if on cue, they suddenly heard someone gasp in shock. “Jesus Christ on a tortilla!” 

‘Well, that solves one mystery,’ Dean thought as he turned around to see the old man shaking in his boots a few feet away from them. 

Recovering from his initial shock, the old man suddenly bent and grabbed the shotgun he apparently dropped earlier, and pointed it at the spacecraft. “What is this? What is going on? Who are you people?!” 

Dean spared a glance at the spacecraft to see if it reacted in any way, but all it did was continue its eerie glowing. 

“Sam, keep an eye on our visitor,” Dean instructed, as he turned to face the old man. “There’s no need to panic,” he reassured him. 

“I’m not panicking. I knew there was somethin’ fishy about you two. I want answers now!” he said, pointing the gun at Dean when he took a step forward. 

“Whoa, hey,” Dean said, raising his arms. “Okay, okay. You want answers, lemme just reach into my pocket…” he said. 

“If you pull out a weapon, I’m blowin’ yer brains out,” the old man warned. 

“Not a weapon,” Dean said as he slowly and carefully removed a metal, cylindrical device from his suit jacket. “See…? Kind of like an Iphone, but slimmer and fancier,” Dean tried to explain. 

The man looked very confused for a second. “Well… how does it work?” he asked, lowering his gun unconsciously. 

Ah. Dean did love it when they took the bite. “Just a second,” he said, quickly donning his Ray-Bans and, not even bothering to check if Sam had his on (because Dean just knew he already had it on), and pushing a button to open it. 

“This is a Neuralyzer. You can get all the answers you want so long as you look right here—“ Dean said, pointing to the top of the cylinder. As soon as the man’s eyes fell on it, the Neuralyzer flashed and the man’s expression went blank, the device having effectively erased his memory of the night’s events. 

Dean took off his shades and pocketed the Neuralyzer. “Okay, old man… what’s your name?” 

“Bob Jenkins,” the old man replied. 

“Mr. Jenkins, you were driving when you stopped to admire the meteor shower. There was no meteorite crash, and you did not meet anyone on this road. You’re gonna go home, curl up in bed with Mrs. Jenkins and in the morning, you are gonna do something about that truck of yours because it is falling apart. And next time, when you see two suspicious guys hanging out in the middle of nowhere, just leave them alone. Alright?” 

Mr. Jenkins nodded, and still with that same blank expression, he lowered his shot gun and walked stiffly back to his truck parked by the side road. Dean watched as the old man started his truck and drove away again, for good this time. 

“Glad that’s finally dealt with,” Dean said, and just as he turned back around to face the ship, the electric current suddenly intensified and charged the air, making Dean’s and Sam’s hair stand on end. He would’ve laughed at Sam’s electrocuted porcupine head any other day, but he was more worried that the alien inside the spacecraft might have just started frying them alive. 

“This is the MIB,” Dean announced, carefully pulling out his standard issue J2 sidearm, and readying himself for the worst. At his side, Sam too had his gun out. “You have made an unauthorized landing on Earth and must be taken back to MIB headquarters for quarantine and questioning. Power down your spacecraft and step out with your hands or other equivalent limbs in the air.” 

A few seconds passed and nothing was happening. The brothers exchanged glances before Dean tried again, “I repeat, this is the MIB. You made an unauthorized—“ 

The electric current dissipated and the lights faded to a faint glow, and they watched as the golden spacecraft started to open like a very intricate puzzle box. Just when Dean thought he could see the alien inside, the symbols on the spacecraft grew bright again, too bright for Dean and Sam’s eyes to look at. They shut their eyes, and suddenly there was ringing in their ears. Painful ringing that sent both men to their knees. It lasted for a handful of seconds, then it was over, the ringing sound softening to a whisper and the light barely glowing at all. When Dean tried to open his eyes again, his breath was caught in his throat at the sight of two, large shadows of wings. Then he finally saw the alien: just a softly glowing, human-like figure, its hands raised in the air like Dean instructed. 

Dean and Sam got up from the ground, slowly lowering their weapons, and soon the light emanating from the alien started to disappear, the shadows of massive wings growing fainter and fainter until there was nothing left but the alien standing there with his head bowed low and looking surprisingly like a normal, human male. 

A very _naked_ human male. 

“O-kay…” Dean said, averting his gaze from the naked alien to look at Sam. “This is interesting,” Dean said with just the faintest trace of a smirk on his lips. 

Sam shot him a dirty look, one that clearly said, ‘I know what you’re thinking, and it’s really not the right time for that.’ 

“What?” Dean asked him defensively, turning his attention back to the alien and trying his best to keep his gaze away from inappropriate places. 

Then the alien raised his head and opened his eyes and that was all it took to remind Sam and Dean that he was anything but human. His eyes were brightly glowing orbs that changed colors like the Northern Lights, and it was both creepy and beautiful at the same time. A few seconds passed, and the colors seemed to swirl, finally glowing a bright blue before dimming completely and disappearing into the alien’s now convincingly human blue eyes. 

Now aside from the golden spaceship and the giant crater, it almost seemed like Sam and Dean just stumbled on some exhibitionist lost in the middle of nowhere, and Dean couldn’t help but wonder what that old Mr. Jenkins would’ve had to say about this now. He’d probably forgo the gun in favor of running them over with his truck. 

“Alright,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “State your name, planet of origin, and your purpose for landing on Earth,” Dean said, while Sam pulled out his phone and punched the code for MIB special services and containment crew. 

The alien ignored Dean, and instead turned to look at his hand curiously. 

“State your name, planet of origin, and purpose for landing on Earth,” Dean repeated more slowly this time around. 

Finally, the alien turned to look at Dean. He titled his head as if he was trying to decipher what Dean had just said. 

“We might need a translator too,” Dean told Sam, who just nodded and entered the appropriate code. 

“I will—“ the alien suddenly spoke in a deep, raspy human voice. He stopped, as if confused with the sound that just came out of his mouth. Then he cleared his throat and spoke again. “I will only speak to Agent B.” 

“Hey buddy, you’re not going anywhere near Agent B unless you give us the information we need,” Dean insisted. 

“I will only speak to Agent B,” the alien repeated. 

“Lemme check on this,” Sam said, and immediately dialed the head of MIB. “It’s Agent S,” Sam said when the older agent picked up his phone. “The meteorite crash you sent us to… well, it turned out to be an unauthorized landing,” he said. “Alien refuses to cooperate and says he will only talk to you… uh-huh, uh-huh… no, no imminent threat… uh-huh…” then Sam fell silent as Agent B explained something to him. 

Dean tried to guess what Agent B—or Bobby as the brothers called him outside the office—was saying now. If the growing bitch face Sam was making was any indication, it couldn’t be good. 

“Well,” Sam said with an irritated huff, “a little warning would’ve been—oh come on, Bobby, what the hell?!” 

Dean was surprised with Sam’s little outburst, but he wasn’t surprised with Sam’s quick apology after it. 

“I’m sorry… yeah, I know. I know. I’ll tell Agent D,” he said before ending the call. 

“So?” Dean inquired. 

“We’re escorting him back to MIB headquarters. Turns out he has an appointment with B all along.” 

“What?” Dean asked in confusion. “So B knew this guy was arriving?” 

Sam nodded. “And we’re his bodyguards until we get him safely back to headquarters.” 

“And he didn’t tell us this because--?” 

“Said it’s above our pay grade,” Sam said. 

Dean had to roll his eyes at Bobby’s favorite non-answer. “Alright then. Did he have special instructions on how to transport this dude?” 

“Car. B says the guy’s safe—mostly.” 

“Well that’s a relief,” Dean said. From a distance, they could see the special services and containment crew arriving. “He’s still gonna go through preliminary check before I’d let him ride in my baby.” 

“B didn’t say anything about that…” 

“Good,” Dean said. “Alright, Mr. Unidentified Alien,” he said, turning his attention back to the alien, who was now looking very interestedly at his feet and wiggling his toes on the damp soil. He looked up when he sensed the agents were looking at him. “Agent B’s confirmed you have a date with him so, here’s what we’re gonna do: you’ll secure your ship, surrender it to the MIB containment crew, and submit yourself to a preliminary check for intergalactic pathogens before we take you anywhere near headquarters. Got that?” he asked the alien. 

The alien made a slow, deliberate nod before turning his back on the two agents and pressing his hand on the gold metal of his ship. The symbols glowed and Dean and Sam watched as the parts of the spacecraft started slotting together like a puzzle box again, only this time the spacecraft was folding into itself like some complex origami, growing smaller and smaller until finally, it was the size of a golf ball, and hardly visible from where Sam and Dean stood. The alien picked it up from the ground and faced the agents again. He took a couple of steps toward the agents, and offered the miniaturized spaceship in his hand. 

Dean looked at the golden ball the alien was handing to him. ‘Definitely looks like the golden snitch,’ he thought. “Just give it to one of those guys,” he said, gesturing to the men in hazmat suits making their way to the crater. 

The alien nodded, and when one of them came close enough, he offered his hand to them again. 

The man in the hazmat suit looked at Sam and Dean questioningly. 

“Yeah, that’s the ship. Put it in decontamination immediately,” Sam ordered. 

The containment crew member nodded and took the spaceship from the alien before scurrying back to one of the big, black vans they came in. 

“Come on,” Dean said to the alien. “We’ll take you to your preliminary check over there,” Dean said, pointing to another one of the black vans. 

Sam and Dean walked with the alien between them so they could keep their eyes on him at all times. When they walked up the incline leading to the side road, Dean fell a step behind them…and his eyes instinctively dropped to the alien’s backside. He only had a second to admire the view (and hey, it was a great view) before Sam not-so-accidentally kicked him in the shin. 

He looked at Sam in protest, mouthing ‘ouch!’ at him. 

Sam glared at him and mouthed the words, ‘Eyes front!’ rather viciously back at Dean. 

Dean just glared daggers at Sam before turning his eyes toward the containment van parked in front of them. “Here we are,” Dean announced. 

Immediately, containment crew members swarmed all three of them, scanners sweeping through their bodies swiftly and efficiently. Then someone just came up to them and sprayed Dean and Sam’s face with a garishly pink decontaminating agent, and when the color faded and they could see again, the alien was already being led away to start his preliminary check. 

“Aside from our meteorite turning into a spaceship, an old dude threatening me with a shotgun, and our alien transforming into a naked dude, that mission was pretty routine, don’t you think?” Dean said, turning to Sam with a grin. 

Sam just rolled his eyes. “I think I need that Coke now.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The drive back to MIB was surprisingly uneventful, which only served to make Dean even more on edge. Since handing off the alien to Bobby, Dean had been trying to get a bit of work done, but it was a useless attempt. It was hard to concentrate on typing up case reports when all Dean could do was steal glances at Bobby’s office every five minutes. He couldn’t be blamed for trying to spy on Bobby’s meeting with the alien. MIB offices had wall to wall glass windows that offered zero privacy, and it wasn’t Dean’s fault his window happened to have an unobstructed view of what was happening in Bobby’s office. 

After nearly two and a half hours, Dean looked up from his failed attempt at typing just in time to see Bobby stand up from his seat. He looked really serious as he walked to his window and locked eyes with Dean, as if he knew Dean was watching this whole time. He made a gesture to call Dean over, and Dean didn’t even pretend to be busy anymore and just snatched his suit jacket and headed over to Bobby’s office, grabbing Sam along the way. 

+++ 

“D, S, you remember our visitor,” Bobby said when the two entered his office. The alien turned in his seat to look at them with those same curious eyes. 

“Our meteorite? Of course, how can we forget?” Dean answered, and Bobby made a face that meant he was expecting something like this from Dean. 

“This is Castiel,” Bobby said. 

With this, the alien stood from his seat and walked stiffly to the two agents. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he said with a small smile. Then a couple seconds later, he looked down and realized his mistake. “Oh, forgive me,” he said before extending his arm in front of him in an almost practiced manner. Then he looked at Dean and Sam expectantly. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he repeated. 

“Same here,” Dean said, taking the alien’s hand and shaking it, surprised by how human his skin felt. 

Sam shook his hand next, and after the handshakes were over, the alien still stood in front of them, looking alternately at Dean and Sam’s faces as if expecting them to say something or make the next move. 

“So,” Dean cleared his throat. “You’re talking to us now, eh?” 

“I told him not to talk to anyone until we sorted things out,” Bobby explained. 

“Sorted what out?” Sam asked. 

“Castiel here is a refugee from the Hale system.” 

“Hale system?” Dean repeated. “Never heard of it.” 

“It is very, very far from here,” the alien—Castiel—said, focusing his gaze a little too intently onto Dean’s face. 

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean said, trying not to squirm under Castiel’s stare. 

“Hale system… but I thought that was like the unicorn land…” Sam turned to Bobby with a questioning look. “MIB’s never encountered anyone from that part of the universe before,” he added, and looked in confusion at Castiel, which later bled into a sort of awed and overwhelmed expression as he realized just what everything meant. “Oh—ohmygod,” he said in disbelief. 

“You’re right about that. Castiel here is the first of his kind to visit this corner of the universe,” Bobby informed them. “Due to the ongoing civil war in his home planet, he’s chosen to relocate here on Earth.” 

Dean looked at Castiel thoughtfully. MIB regularly dealt with relocating alien refugees on Earth, but to his knowledge, this was the first time a refugee didn’t pass through regular channels—usually they landed onto MIB approved landing grounds and warp stations, then they had to pass through Immigration and Earth Visa processing. They don’t just land anywhere and ask to be brought to the head of MIB immediately like Castiel did. This only meant that Bobby was keeping something big from them—and Dean itched to know what it was. 

“Now before you jump to the wrong conclusions, Agent D,” Bobby said, and dammit, why did he always seem to know what Dean was thinking? “It’s time for Castiel’s relocation to be processed. Take him to the Relocation Center and come back here. I’ll explain everything when you return.” 

Dean frowned. Babysitting again? “Why not just ask them to come get him?” 

“Just do it, boy,” Bobby said, and Dean could tell the old man was getting impatient with him. “I’ll answer all your questions later.” 

“And me?” Sam asked. 

“You stay here,” Bobby said. “I have an urgent case I need you to work on.” 

+++ 

Dean glanced at Castiel to his side as they walked to the Relocation Division. He seemed very distracted by everything he saw—from the worms hanging out in the break room, to a tech guy with a pink Mohawk. “So… you’re a refugee, huh?” Dean asked, trying to see if he could get some answers out of the guy. 

“Yes,” Castiel replied. 

“Things got a little too chaotic back home?” 

“You could say that,” Castiel answered. 

Dean bristled at Castiel’s reluctance to share information. “Should we be expecting more of your kind to come here? So, you know, we could be prepared—” 

Castiel shook his head. “I doubt it,” he said. It looked like he was about to say something else, but something caught his attention and he stopped and stared into the distance. 

Dean turned to look at what Castiel was staring at, but saw nothing but a mirror across the hallway. “Something wrong?” 

Castiel cocked his head to the side while keeping his eyes glued to his reflection. He walked closer to the mirror turning his head from side to side. Bringing a hand to his head, he ran his fingers through his hair, pulling and mussing it up even more. Then he opened his mouth wide and tried to look as far as he could inside his throat. After inspecting his mouth, he tried peering into his nostrils next. “Interesting,” Castiel said. 

“That’s a mirror,” Dean said. “Pretty sure it’s not exclusively an Earth thing.” 

Castiel looked at Dean like he was the one acting weirdly. “Yes, it’s not,” he said. “But this,” he said, looking back at his reflection and focusing his attention on the stubble on his jaw. “This exact appearance is exclusive to your species,” he said as he experimentally smoothed his palm over his cheek. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean said, looking Castiel up and down in his pristine white patient’s clothes (and trying hard not to recall what he looked like naked). “You, uh,” Dean averted his gaze when he realized his eyes lingered a little too long below the alien’s belt. “You look human. This isn’t your true form, right? You shape shift?” Dean asked. 

“I shape shift,” Castiel answered distractedly as he continued to inspect his face. “My race can adapt our form to whatever intelligent life there is on a planet we visit,” Castiel explained, pinching and pulling his cheeks and looking surprised that it hurt when he pinched a little too hard. 

“So this… is your human form? I get it,” Dean said. 

“Yes. This is what I would look like if I were born human,” Castiel replied. “It was either this or a cockroach,” he said seriously. 

“Huh,” Dean said, trying not to contemplate how things would’ve gone down if he saw a cockroach crawl out of that spaceship. “You mind?” he asked, gesturing for them to continue walking. The alien shook his head and turned around to face Dean with the intention of following him back down the hall. He stopped, however, and looked at Dean’s face with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. 

“What?” Dean asked, taking a step back because suddenly, Castiel was standing too close and looking at his face as if his eyes were cataloguing every detail of Dean’s face. 

“You have spots,” Castiel stated. 

“Sp-spots?!” Dean sputtered. “I don’t have—“ 

“On your nose and cheeks,” Castiel clarified. 

“You mean freckles?” Dean asked, trying not to feel self conscious as Castiel continued to study his face. 

“Yes. Freckles. I don’t seem to have them,” he said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. 

“Yeah, well, not all humans have freckles,” Dean said. “But hey, you can try sunbathing later on, see if you get ‘em.” 

“Thanks, maybe I will try that,” Castiel said with a smile as they continued walking down the hall. “So what do I need to try to get that spiky pink hair?” he asked, raising his hand above his head to gesture, of all things, a Mohawk. 

Dean grimaced. “Dude, no. It won’t look good on you—just no,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t change anything. Trust me, this—“ he said, quickly looking at Castiel up and down, “—this looks fine.” _Very_ fine, Dean’s mind added as his eyes lingered on the alien’s lips. 

“Oh,” Castiel said, and he seemed pleased. “You look fine too,” he added politely, though his ‘fine’ and Dean’s ‘fine’ probably carried two slightly different meanings. 

+++ 

The Relocation Division was the MIB branch dedicated solely to helping the alien visitors and migrants to fit in with human society. That included finding them alien-proofed homes, fitting them with human-shaped vessels if needed, and giving them a human identity, complete with real fabricated birth certificates, diplomas, and excellent credit histories. 

There were only a handful of people in the main office at that time. Garth, the head of the division, was lounging in his seat and browsing a boathouse catalogue, and Charlie, the resident IT genius, was in front of her computer and currently locked in an intense online battle with the evil warlock king. The other two employees were over at a corner, fitting a wig over a Butthead—an actual alien with a head shaped like a hairy human ass. Dean remembered getting a stomachache from holding back his laughter the first time he saw one of those. 

“Alright. The redhead’s Charlie, and that guy there’s Garth. Don’t worry, they’re professionals,” Dean told Castiel as they walked inside. “Hey, got a new guy for ‘ya,” Dean announced. 

Garth looked up from his catalog while Charlie ignored them in favor of casting a slew of spells at her opponent. 

“Oh, this the one B phoned in a few minutes ago? The alien from Hale?” Garth asked as he set the catalog aside and picked up a tablet. 

“Yeah, this is Castiel,” Dean said. 

“Whoa whoa whoa…” Charlie said all of a sudden. She hit pause and looked up from her computer. “OMG. No frigging way!” she said, launching out of her seat so fast her chair swiveled and slid across the floor to the other row of tables. She went straight to Castiel and stared unabashedly at his face. “You’re like the super secret character that’s only available in bonus levels and has limitless HP and attack power and has all these cool abilities that you have to discover on your own,” she rambled excitedly. 

Castiel glanced at Dean in confusion, and Dean nodded reassuringly and mouthed ‘Professionals,’ at him. 

“And wow, you’re dreamy,” Charlie added. 

“Thank you,” Castiel said without an ounce of embarrassment in his voice. 

Charlie grinned. “I’m so glad I called dibs on being in charge of your wardrobe. We’re gonna have a blast,” she said with that little twinkle in her eye that meant she’s having one of her ideas again. Last time that twinkle appeared, Dean found himself in a park dressed in medieval battle gear. 

“Okay,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “We good here? Cause I gotta get back to B’s office.” 

“Yeah, B just emailed me the specifics for his relocation. We’ll be done with him in a few hours,” Garth told him as he typed something into his computer. 

“Alright, buddy, I’ll see you later,” Dean said before Charlie led Castiel to sit on a chair beside Garth’s desk. 

“Now, Mr. Castiel, how would you like to live in a boat?” was the last thing Dean heard before he left the Relocation Division. 

+++ 

Dean returned to Bobby’s office just as Sam was hurrying to leave. “Where’re you going?” he asked. 

“Got a case, B will explain,” Sam just said before quickly walking away. 

“What was that about?” Dean asked Bobby. 

“Like what he said, I gave him a case,” Bobby answered. 

“On his own?” Dean asked, taking a seat in front of Bobby. “Without me?” 

“Yes, without you. But not on his own,” Bobby said. “I loaned him over to the legal department.” 

“The legal… wait, for real?” Dean asked in disbelief. “Why, what’s wrong? Is the Earth being sued again for noise pollution? Because they should take that up with Justin Bieber’s home planet, not us—“ 

“It’s for an entirely different case,” Bobby said, moving his fingers over a tablet and handing it over to Dean. 

All he saw was a picture of a bunch of red rocks. “It’s that idjit of a robot again. Curiosity ran over an important cultural relic from a Martian tribe. They’re suing the Earth in Intergalactic Court for a ridiculous amount of damages.” 

“Sounds bad,” Dean said as he handed the tablet back to Bobby. “So what’s S gonna do there? Does he actually get to work on the case, or he’s stuck with coffee duty?” 

“Are you kiddin’ me? If they’re just gonna use one of my best agents as their lackey, I’d rather have S here stapling my papers,” Bobby said with a grimace. “No, the legal team’s short one lawyer. Apparently Naomi had a drilling accident—don’t ask. I don’t know what it’s about— and since S just finished his Intergalactic Law Degree, I sent him there to help out.” 

A grin spread across Dean’s face. “That’s awesome,” he said. “I mean, not the drilling accident, because that sounds serious, but S getting his Intergalactic Court cherry popped,” Dean clarified. Sam had always dreamed of being a lawyer and transferring to the Legal Division. He only needed to take the bar exams and he’d be done. But life as a field agent didn’t exactly leave Sam with much time for studying in between missions. If he really wanted to take the bar, though, Dean was confident he could do it. He could ace it, no problem. Except sometimes, Dean almost felt like Sam was deliberately putting off taking the bar, and Dean couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. Like he was the one holding Sam back. And that really wouldn’t do. So it was actually a relief for Dean that Sam got this case. It would be good for both of them. 

“This doesn’t mean a vacation for you though,” Bobby was quick to warn Dean. “You don’t get to slack off just because your partner’s busy.” 

Dean’s jaw dropped. “Wasn’t thinking that at all,” Dean denied. Okay, maybe it was slightly a lie. He did think about it for a couple of seconds, but he remembered soon after that this was Bobby he was talking to. He’ll never allow him to sit idly without a case for too long. “So, what’s my case? What’s easy enough for me to do without S?” Dean asked, and just as the words left his mouth, he realized what it was, and his face fell. “Wait, don’t tell me… it has something to do with Castiel. And babysitting. I’m gonna babysit him. That’s it, isn’t it?” 

“You’re right,” Bobby said. “Oh don’t look at me like that, boy. It’s not gonna be as easy as it sounds. And you’re not doing it without S. Not entirely. He’ll help you out whenever he can.” 

Dean slumped in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, what’s included in this babysitting gig? Do I change diapers, sing him to sleep—“ 

“Castiel has agreed to work as a Special Consultant for MIB. In exchange for his relocation here on Earth, he will share his knowledge of the Hale system to the MIB data bank. That means we’ll have information on previously uncharted planets and stars, as well as the various life forms that inhabit them—including his race.” 

“So he’s gonna work as an alien encyclopedia?” Dean asked. “Sounds great and all, but what’s the catch?” 

“The catch is since he’s a Special Consultant for the MIB, the usual restrictions for alien migrants won’t apply to him. This means he’s free to travel the world and he’ll have access to all of MIB resources and information databases—at least after the month-long probation period.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… you’re telling me dude gets to live on Earth with all this freedom? What if he’s a spy? Or what if he’s dangerous? We don’t know anything about him!” Dean protested. 

“He’s not a spy, trust me,” Bobby said. “As for the dangerous part… that’s why I need you and S on this. His knowledge can prove invaluable to MIB, but the fact remains, we know nothing about his kind and what they’re capable of. We need to know if he’s a danger to humans and to this planet. Which is why I need him in full surveillance 24/7, and not just remotely. I mean personal surveillance.” 

“And that’s where we come in? We’re gonna be his fulltime babysitters,” Dean concluded. 

“Well, _you_ are,” Bobby corrected, bringing his mug of coffee to his lips, “—S is just a part-timer in this one,” he said before taking a sip. 

“Well that’s just awesome,” Dean said unenthusiastically. “S is getting to live his dream while I get stuck with surveillance duty,” he complained. 

“Would you rather I give you desk duty? Have you process personnel complaints? Crowley’s got ten complaints filed against him just this week. You wanna go look into that instead?” 

Dean’s complaints died in his throat before he could voice them out, so he just sat there, trying not to mope like a kid in front of Bobby, who really, was like the father he never knew he needed. 

“It’s only gonna be for a month,” Bobby assured him. “Use that time to assess whether Castiel is dangerous or not. This will give us enough time to learn all we can about him and his kind. Once we determine that he is not a threat, you can go back to your regular duties.” 

Dean shifted in his seat as he tried to process everything that Bobby was telling him. “And what if my assessment is that he _is_ dangerous?” Dean asked. “What about his precious ‘knowledge’?” 

“Then we’ll follow procedure,” Bobby answered, though he seemed to find the idea unappealing. “If he’s just bein’ a pain in your ass, you’re on your own. But if he breaks any laws, intergalactic or human, then you can arrest him. If the threat is more immediate… eliminate him.” 

Dean nodded, the idea that he was allowed to arrest, or worse, kill the alien if he ever became a real threat gave him a little more peace of mind. At least the alien wasn’t a diplomat. Diplomats were usually the biggest dicks, and the worst part of dealing with them was you couldn’t touch a hair or a tentacle on their bodies without running the risk of starting an interplanetary war. 

“So I’m guessing S and I are gonna crash at the dude’s place for four weeks…” Dean said thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Bobby confirmed. 

“Then I gotta go back to the Relocation Division,” Dean said, standing up and straightening his suit. “Garth was offering Castiel a boathouse, and dude, I am not staying in one of those for a whole month.” 


	3. Chapter 3

To Dean’s relief, Garth didn’t actually give Castiel a boathouse. In fact, Dean’s first official task as Castiel’s _companion_ , as Bobby put it, was to drive him to his new home at this swanky apartment building on West 22nd in Chelsea. It was owned by another alien and armed with all the necessary MIB surveillance equipment. It’s a place Dean couldn’t even dream of renting, not with his meager paycheck, which only meant the price of Castiel’s information was higher than Dean originally thought. 

Dean picked him up from the Relocation Division and almost didn’t recognize him. He looked like a regular New York office man in his suit and tie, and a tan trench coat that Charlie picked out herself. “His look is so John Constantine, you know? The whole mysterious vibe, plus the hair and the pale skin reminded me of Keanu Reeves from the movie so I thought, why not? Not that I watched for Keanu, okay? Totally did it for Rachel Weiss, but whatever. The point is, this coat, is awesome!” she excitedly reported. 

It could’ve gone so much worse, Dean just thought, sparing Castiel a quick glance as the alien sat quietly on the passenger seat and stared out the window. The tie Charlie picked out made the blue of Castiel’s eyes look brighter, and though the coat looked a little too big for him, it still suited him well. It added to his ‘mysterious vibe’ like Charlie said. Kind of like one of those flashers lurking quietly around street corners, except Castiel’s hotter and, well, may or may not have something extraterrestrial going on down there— not that Dean saw anything back at the crash site. He’d have to take another look to be sure. 

Dean looked away quickly when he realized he had been thinking about the guy in more than a PG way (again). He could almost imagine Sam giving him a bitch face and berating him about being a professional. Imaginary Sam would be right too. He was working. This was a job. Not some random hot guy he picked up from a bar, but an alien. A frigging alien who could be very, very dangerous and have some sort of super alien mojo nobody knew about. Like maybe, heat vision or absorbing Dean’s life force with a touch. 

He glanced at Castiel again, and the alien looked utterly confused as a woman crossed the street carrying a bejeweled dog bag with a Chihuahua’s head sticking out of one end. Okay, so the guy looked mostly harmless, and he’s probably not going to be joining the X-men anytime soon. But still, Dean had to keep his wits about him. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, despite how appealing a distraction Castiel might be. 

Thankfully, Castiel was still too busy staring outside his window to notice any of Dean’s prolonged glances. This time, he stared a little too intently at a bike messenger that stopped beside the car, and the guy noticed and gave Castiel a ‘what-the-fuck’ face before pedaling away. Castiel was unperturbed and moved his gaze next to a bunch of people crowding a hotdog cart. 

Dean realized belatedly that Castiel was looking at everything so intently because he was seeing all of this for the first time. He wondered how that would feel like—to suddenly be thrust into a totally new and unfamiliar world. It was both a very interesting and frightening concept. 

+++ 

Dean parked at a free spot just past the apartment building and when they walked up to the door, a skinny blond teenager in a red doorman uniform came out to greet them. 

“Good morning,” he said, straightening his hat and looking at them with big blue eyes. He almost looked like he skipped school just to play dress-up. 

“Uh, we’re lookin’ for Alfie? New tenant here—“ he said, tilting his head towards Castiel. 

The teenager’s face brightened. “Oh!” he gasped, looking at them like Dean was Santa Claus and he’d just delivered him his Castiel-shaped Christmas present. “You’re here,” he said breathlessly as he stared at Castiel’s face with so much awe, Dean felt like he was intruding on a private moment. 

“ _You’re_ Alfie?” Dean said incredulously. 

“Oh right,” the kid said, remembering himself. “Sorry, sorry. Yeah, I’m Alfie. Nice to meet you, Agent D,” he said, shaking Dean’s hand. “And of course, you too. Very nice to meet you, Castiel,” he said, extending his hand to Castiel. 

“Nice to meet you too,” Castiel replied, shaking Alfie’s hand in that same stiff, practiced manner he had when shaking Dean and Sam’s hand earlier that day. 

“Oh, you know how to shake!” Alfie said to Castiel. “They’re kinda big on this hand-shaking thing. Wait till you get to other countries—they kiss as a greeting!” he eagerly shared as he led them inside the building. 

“I own and manage this place. Sometimes when I’m bored, I give the doorman a day off and I wait by the door,” he told them. They rode the elevator up to the fourth floor and Alfie opened the door to the apartment, letting Dean and Castiel enter first. “Special services left about an hour ago after putting in your requests.” 

Dean whistled as he walked into the apartment. The living room alone was huge, with oversized windows, a fireplace, and some pretty nice furniture that looked expensive but cozy at the same time. It wasn’t like those ultra-modern places where everything was black, white and chrome, with chairs that could stab you in delicate areas if you sit on them wrong. This place actually looked warm and inviting—in fact, Dean instantly gravitated to the plush green couch sitting in front of the ginormous flat screen and plopped his ass right on to it with an audible sigh. It felt like heaven. 

Castiel, meanwhile, walked to the photographs of world famous landmarks hanging on one of the walls and studied them one by one. 

“Not gonna lie, dude, this is an awesome couch,” Dean said to Alfie, grinning. 

“Thanks, picked that one myself,” Alfie said proudly. “And those too!” Alfie said, walking to Castiel’s side by the photographs. “Special services delivered like 50 photos this morning. Some were crap so I went ahead and chose the best ones.” 

There was a small smile on Castiel’s face as he looked at a picture of the Eifel tower. “Thank you,” he said, turning to face Alfie. “They’re perfect.” 

Alfie grinned like a preschooler who’d just been handed a gold star. He glanced at Dean still beaming with fanboy pride and said, “Alright, I guess I’ll leave you guys to get settled. If you need anything else, my place is just a floor up, in the penthouse,” he said, pointing to the ceiling. “You’re free to drop by anytime,” he added. “Oh, but I’m on door duty until 5 today, so after that’ll be fine,” he went on. 

Dean nodded. “We’ll knock if we need to borrow some sugar.” 

“Okay,” Alfie said with a laugh as he shuffled backwards toward the door. “We’ll just talk some other time, Castiel. I’ve always wanted to know about the Hale sy—“ 

“See ya, Alfie,” Dean interrupted. 

“Right, sorry, on my way,” he said sheepishly, finally reaching the door. “See ya,” he said, waving goodbye to Castiel. He waited until Castiel waved back before he finally shut the door behind him. 

Dean exhaled loudly. “Kid’s got a crush,” he said as he stood up to look at the pictures that Castiel was still busy studying. “So, these were your special requests?” Dean asked, looking appreciatively at a gorgeous photograph of Mount Fuji. 

“Among others,” Castiel replied. “I’m aware I can’t go anywhere far until my four-week probationary period is over, but I can still feel like I’ve traveled just by looking at these pictures.” 

“Huh,” Dean said in understanding. He turned and walked to the opposite side of the apartment to inspect the dining area. “Can’t wait to see the world, huh? Enjoy the sights. I get it,” he said distractedly as he inspected the glazed glass panels of a lamp hanging above the dining table. “If I were in a new place, I’d want to experience everything good it has to offer,” he said, withdrawing his hand quickly when the lamp swayed and the panels clinked against each other. He thrust his hands in his pockets and walked away, avoiding anything breakable. 

He came up to the refrigerator’s double doors, opened them to see it stocked with everything from bacon and frozen meats, to strawberries and kale and eggs and at least 5 different flavored milk cartons. Dean would bet Charlie was behind this as well, and she probably just ordered everything she thought Castiel might like. “You know what, I’ve got an idea,” he said, shutting the refrigerator doors and looking at Castiel from across the floor. 

Castiel stopped his inspection of a picture of the Stonehenge to face Dean with a questioning tilt of his head. 

“Did Medical find anything—food, drugs, pop music— you were allergic to?” Dean asked. 

“No,” Castiel answered with a bit of confusion. “Though they warned me that should I feel a painful burning sensation, I should report back immediately,” he shared. 

“And they didn’t feed you anything?” Dean inquired, and when Castiel shook his head, he said “Good.” Dean grabbed the keys Alfie left on a table and headed for the door, gesturing for Castiel to follow him. “You can continue your apartment tour later. Right now it’s time for you to try out something good this planet has to offer,” he said, and when Castiel looked at him again in confusion, he grinned. “We’re going out for lunch.” 

+++ 

The Roadhouse Diner sat just a block away from the apartment, and Dean had to admit his companion gig was starting to sound more appealing, especially since this meant he could grab a slice of Ellen’s heavenly apple pie anytime he wanted. 

The owner of the diner, and long time MIB asset, was nowhere in sight, but Jo was there, and she eagerly greeted Dean when he sat at his usual booth by the corner. 

“D, looking good,” she said. “So, who’s your _friend_?” she asked, eyeing Cas with a barely there smirk and a twinkle in her eye that was all kinds of suggestive. 

“This is Castiel, a new _consultant_ ,” Dean said, emphasizing the word so she’d get the hint. “From out of town,” he added. 

“Oh, cool,” Jo said in understanding. “Hi, I’m Jo,” she said, shaking Castiel’s hand. “My dad was also from out of town,” she shared with a smile. “Worked for the agency until he died almost a decade ago. So, you know, you can come here anytime and feel right at home.” 

Castiel looked confused for a second, then he looked at Dean, then back at Jo and he finally understood what they meant. “Oh!” he said, shaking his head. “Of course. From out of town. I see. And thank you,” he said. 

“So you’re planning to stay long?” she asked, whipping out a pen and a pad of paper to take their orders. 

“Yes,” Castiel answered. “Probably staying for good,” he said, and Dean noticed a tiny hint of sadness in his voice. Either the guy’s just homesick, or something’s up and nobody was telling Dean. Again. 

“Well, it’s a good thing the food here is great,” Jo said, beaming. “Got any idea what you’ll be having?” 

“This is Castiel’s introduction to, uh, food from this area… so I’m thinking we’ll start with Double Bacon Cheeseburgers and fries. Orange juice for him and beer for me,” Dean said. “How’s that sound?” he asked, looking at Castiel. 

Castiel frowned, studying the menu before him again. “I have no idea what bacon or orange juice is but…” 

“Don’t worry. You’ll like it. And if you don’t, I can get you something else. Maybe a salad, or a grilled chicken sandwich. Those are S’ favorites,” Jo reassured him. 

“Okay,” Castiel agreed. “Trying them won’t kill me… at least I hope not,” he said seriously. 

Jo chuckled as she took the menus from their table. “You’re funny. I like you,” she said to Castiel. “I’ll be back with your orders. Try not to disappear before then.” 

Castiel’s gaze followed Jo as she walked back into the kitchen. 

“So,” Dean said, leaning back on the bench and stretching his legs under the table (purposefully missing Castiel’s legs, because that would be awkward and weird and highly inappropriate). 

Castiel’s eyes snap back to Dean. “I was informed no one outside of MIB should know about my origins. Is it safe for her to know I’m not, uh, from here?” he leaned across the table and whispered, as if wary of eavesdroppers around them. 

“Oh she’s cool,” Dean said, waving a dismissive hand. “She’s an informant. So’s Ellen, her mom. Ellen was an agent before,” he said, leaning closer to the table so nobody would overhear. “Left MIB when she fell in love with an alien dignitary. Usually, agents who leave the service are neuralyzed, but well, it’s kind of hard to erase someone’s memories about aliens when she was married to one and was pregnant with their half-alien baby.” 

Castiel nodded in understanding. “So interspecies relationships are not taboo here,” he concluded. 

Dean blinked, suddenly all too aware of how close his face was to Castiel’s, and how that intense gaze was now focused on his face and, oh hey, one of his legs were now touching Castiel’s ankle. He jerked back as if he was burned and tried to casually recover by taking his glass of water and drinking it. “It’s not, yeah. I mean, it’s not like it happens often, but yeah. It happens,” he said after taking a sip. “Though agents aren’t allowed to, you know,” he said, making a vague gesture with his hands. “Interferes with work.” 

Castiel leaned away from the table a bit more slowly. “Of course,” he said. 

“So,” Dean said clearing his throat. “You got your new IDs with you?” he said, changing the subject. “Gimme one. Your driver’s license. I wanna see what Garth came up with.” 

Castiel took his wallet out and started pulling out the contents as he looked for his license. He had taken out a library card, a gym membership card, a couple of credit cards, and a free pepperoni pizza coupon before he found his driver’s license and handed it to Dean. 

“Wow, the Relocation guys are thorough,” Dean said, impressed by the thought they put into making Castiel appear as human as possible. “So, Castiel James Novak, huh,” Dean read the name written on the card. “Mister Novak… not bad. You got your info down?” he asked as he handed the license back. 

Castiel nodded as he inserted the card back into his wallet and pocketed it.“Born August 20th, 1974 in Pontiac, Illinois. Single. No living relatives. Just moved to New York City to work as a Tax Accountant for Kripke Conglomerated,” Castiel recited. 

“Now just remember your cover story and no one will ever think there’s something off about you,” Dean advised just as Jo came back with their food. 

“What’s off about him?” Jo asked. “He looks perfect,” she said with a wink. 

“Hey, hey, hey, no flirting with my charge. Get back to work,” Dean told her off. 

“Nah, I wanna see if Castiel likes the burger,” she said, leaning her hip on the side of Dean’s booth and giving Castiel an expectant look. 

“You just grab it with both hands like this,” Dean said, demonstrating with his own burger, “and just take a bite of everything,” he said before he chomped on the burger. “Schee?” he said as he chewed. 

Castiel slowly picked the burger up with his hands before glancing at the two watching him like he was about to perform a magic trick. With some trepidation, he opened his mouth wide and braced himself as he took a big bite. He closed his eyes as he chewed once, twice, savoring the taste in his mouth. He never tasted anything like this before. 

“Well?” Jo asked, eagerly waiting for the verdict. 

Castiel opened his eyes again and looked at where he’d bitten the burger. “It’s unusual,” he said. “But it’s good.” 

The twin grins on Jo’s and Dean’s faces made Castiel smile too as he bit into the burger again, a little more eagerly this time around. 

“You can never go wrong with Bacon Cheeseburgers,” Dean said proudly before biting into his own burger. He spared Castiel a glance again, and found the guy’s mouth full with his food, his burger almost half finished already. “Whoa, slow down buddy,” he said just as Castiel took another bite and got ketchup on the side of his mouth. 

“You’ve got a little—“ Dean said, pointing to the corner of his own mouth. 

“Oh,” Castiel said with his mouth full. He chewed a couple more times before swallowing. Then he darted his tongue out to lick the ketchup off his lips. 

Dean’s mouth suddenly went dry at the sight. ‘Talented tongue,’ was the first thought in Dean’s head and he quickly tried to drown it out with a long swig off his beer. 

Jo shot Dean a knowing look that Dean tried to ignore in favor of stuffing his mouth with fries. 

“I better leave you two alone,” she said. “Call me if you need anything. Another burger, maybe?” she asked Castiel. 

“Yes,” Castiel said before eating the last of his burger. 

“Alright. Another Double Bacon Cheeseburger. And then maybe next time you can try the sandwiches,” she said before she left. 

“She’s very friendly,” Castiel said to Dean before he took a sip from his juice. He made a pleased expression and sipped some more. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbled. “Wait till you _really_ get to know her. She’s got some mean claws on her,” he told him. “Literally and figuratively.” 

+++ 

Dinner was supposed to be pizza, and Dean was secretly excited to see how Castiel would like it. He wolfed down three burgers, and when Dean introduced him to pie, he attacked it with the same enthusiasm. The noises he made while he licked whipped cream off his fork went straight to Dean’s crotch. Pie never disappointed Dean, and it looked like there was one more reason to have an endless supply of it in the apartment. And whipped cream. Definitely whipped cream. 

But tonight, it was dinner with another kind of pie. 

The pizza arrived 15 minutes ago, and Dean was eating it alone. They returned to the apartment after lunch and Dean checked out the master bedroom with Castiel. It was huge, just as expected, with a king size bed and oversized pillows that looked so inviting, Dean suddenly felt sleepy. 

“This is nice,” Dean said, trying to stifle a yawn. “You _do_ need sleep, right?” 

“Occasionally,” was Castiel’s reply. “We’ve evolved so we don’t need to sleep regularly but—“ Castiel let out a long yawn that Dean wouldn’t call adorable (because it wasn’t!) “—I guess a nap wouldn’t be so bad right now.” 

That was almost six hours ago. Dean had an hour long nap in his equally snuggly bed just across from Castiel’s room. After his nap though, he managed to scout the whole apartment building, checking for all possible entry and exit points, testing the security systems, and making sure MIB surveillance equipment were in proper working order. Then he retreated to the apartment and did a bit of paperwork, called MIB to have some of his personal belongings moved from his place to the apartment, then spent the rest of the afternoon on his new favorite couch watching TV. When he opened Castiel’s door a crack to tell him the pizza had arrived, he found him still burrowed under the comforter, fast asleep. 

He couldn’t blame the guy for sleeping the day off. After what was probably a really, really long flight, he spent the whole night in MIB having his relocation processed. Hell, if Dean wasn’t so used to MIB’s irregular working schedule, he’d be sleeping like a rock too after being up for almost 48 hours. 

Dean grabbed his third slice and mumbled to himself, “Kinda hard to evaluate if he’s a threat when he spends most of the day asleep.” 

The sound of jangling keys startled Dean, nearly dropping the slice of pizza on the floor as he made a move to draw his gun. The moment he saw a flash of red flannel, he breathed a sigh of relief and flopped back down on the sofa. “How’s the future lawyer?” he asked. 

“Tired,” was Sam’s reply, but he wore a grin when he said it that Dean actually felt a swell of pride for his baby brother. Sam walked in the living room with a couple of large suitcases in tow. “We’re staying here for a month? Wow,” Sam said, grin growing wider. “I could get used to living at a place like this.” 

“Yeah well, despite the luxurious digs, this is a job alright?” Dean reminded him. “Dinner?” he asked, gesturing at the pizza. 

“Sure,” Sam said. “I got your things,” he said, stationing both suitcases beside the sofa. He sat down beside Dean and grabbed a slice for himself. “So, how was your first day of ‘companion’ duty?” 

Dean shrugged. “Went for lunch at the Roadhouse and that’s about it. Castiel’s been dozing in his room since then. Been just sitting on my ass for most of the afternoon,” he said before he finished his third slice and stood up to grab his suitcase. “Thank god I can finally get out of this suit,” Dean said, rummaging through the contents for a shirt, a pair of boxers, and his one and only pajama bottoms. He usually slept in just his boxers, but he was technically on call 24/7 now. It’d be kind of awkward to attend to a Castiel-related emergency in his underwear. “And how was _your_ day at Intergalactic Court?” he asked as he finally fished out his boxers. 

“Good, it was good,” Sam said, a smile on his face as he took a monstrous bite off the pizza. 

“Just good huh? Okay,” Dean said, pretending he didn’t notice how Sam was trying to hide his excitement. He was glad to see whoever packed his things thought to include his toothbrush, deodorant and shampoo in the bag. 

“Okay, well, not ‘just’ good. It was stressful, and Zachariah kept grilling me about planetary laws, and I think I strained my eyes reading so many documents, but... I loved it,” Sam finally said. 

“That’s great,” Dean said. “So do we have a strong case? I don’t wanna lose to the Martians on this one.” 

“It’s a tough one. Right now it’s 50-50. But get this: that Martian relic that Curiosity supposedly ran over? It was a statue of their deity of exploration, which is really ironic if you think about it,” Sam shared with a laugh, before he stood up to walk to the fridge. “Got anything else other than beer?” he asked. 

“Yeah, it’s fully stocked. Help yourself,” Dean said. “I’m gonna take a shower. Your turn to watch the kid, okay?” he said, bundling up his toiletries in his clothes. 

“Sure. Place is babyproofed anyway, right?” 

“’Course it is,” Dean said before he entered his bedroom to get to the en suite bathroom. 

Eagerly shedding his shirt and pants, Dean leaned in the stall to begin deciphering how the shower knobs work. Just as he was on his second attempt at turning on the shower and not the faucet, he heard it. 

At first it was just this soft, ringing sound, and if it were any other day, he would’ve just ignored it. Except he heard this sound before—at Castiel’s crash site. 

Quickly pulling his pants up and barely zipping it closed, he grabbed his gun and cautiously made his way to Castiel’s door. He looked towards the direction of the living room, and saw Sam on the sofa watching some cheesy crime show on TV. He probably hadn’t heard the ringing, and Dean didn’t have any way of calling Sam’s attention without making a sound, so he just opened the door and went in himself. 

It was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside. Castiel was still in the exact same position Dean saw him in earlier. Looking around the room for any signs of where the sound was coming from, he approached the bed cautiously. Then, the sound started to get louder and louder, the glass vase on the side table started to shake. He reached across the large bed toward Castiel and realized he was mumbling something. Or rather, not just something, but the sound was coming from Castiel’s lips. 

“Dean!” Sam burst into the room with his gun drawn and immediately pointed it at Castiel. 

“Sam, wait!” Dean said, stopping his brother from going any further into the room. Dean turned back to Castiel, gun ready just in case things get bad, and shook Castiel’s shoulder to wake him up. 

The noise abruptly stopped and two groggy blue eyes stared up at Dean. 

“Agent D?” he asked, voice sleep rough, as he sat up. 

“You alright, Castiel?” Dean asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

“Uhh,” he said in confusion, gaze moving to Sam by the door, who still had his gun pointed at him. He sat up, and noticed Dean’s gun was out as well. His face fell immediately. “What did I do?” he asked, and Dean couldn’t help but feel like Castiel knew this was going to happen. 

“You were making this painful ringing sound. Were you—I think you were talking in your sleep?” 

“Oh no,” Castiel said, shaking his head and looking like a kicked puppy. “I was dreaming. I haven’t had a dream in 75 years,” he said in disbelief, staring at his hands like they had all the answers in the world. Then he looked at Sam and Dean. “Did I hurt you?” he asked. 

“Um,” Dean looked at Sam, and Sam shook his head as he lowered his gun. “Nah, I think if you were just a bit louder, you would’ve burst my eardrums, but we’re mostly okay.” 

“My voice, as well as my true form, they can be harmful to other beings. This is why we shapeshift… I’m sorry. I should’ve had more control over it,” he said, and the guilt coming off him was too much, even Sam felt the need to placate him. 

“We’ve encountered worse, don’t worry. No harm done. Just… keep it in check next time, okay?” Sam said. 

Castiel looked up at Sam gratefully. “Thank you, Agent S,” he said. 

Sam smiled. “It was nothing.” 

“So now that you’re awake…” Dean said, getting up from the bed. “How about some dinner?” 

Castiel blinked owlishly at him. “It’s time to eat again?” 

“Sure,” Dean said, hands on his hips. 

“Is it customary to eat dinner bare-chested?” Castiel asked, hands moving to undo his buttons. 

“Wha—?” Dean looked down and realized he was half naked. “No-no, god no,” he said, hands flying wildly in front of him. “This isn’t custo—I mean, I was gonna shower.” 

“Oh,” Castiel said in understanding, buttoning up the first two buttons that he’d already undone. 

“Fly’s open, too, D,” Sam pointed out, the way younger brothers do to embarrass their already bumbling older brothers. 

“Thanks,” Dean threw a glare at Sam as he quickly zipped his pants back up. 

“No problem,” Sam said before he left to return to his dinner. 

“So,” Dean began, clearing his throat. “I’m gonna take a really quick shower first.” 

“Okay,” Castiel said, moving to get up from the bed. “And Dean?” Castiel asked as Dean reached the door. 

“Hmm?” Dean asked, looking back. 

“Thank you,” Castiel said. “For not… uh, shooting at me.” 

“It’ll take more than that for me to discharge a firearm. Company policy,” Dean joked. “Get up and have a go at dinner. I’ll meet you in the living room.” 

Castiel nodded, a small, grateful smile forming on his face. 

Dean thought about that smile (in a non perverted way) as he showered that night. And while he washed away the shampoo from his hair, he realized belatedly that Castiel had called him ‘Dean’ and not Agent D. ‘How Castiel knew his name’ was a question he would ask Castiel the moment he finished his shower. ‘Why he felt okay with Castiel knowing his name’ was a question Dean asked himself repeatedly for the rest of the night. 


	4. Chapter 4

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Bobby grumbled when Dean sauntered into his office. 

“I’m bored,” Dean stated, dropping onto a seat with an audible sigh. 

“Quitting as a babysitter so soon? Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft,” Bobby baited. 

“I thought we’re supposed to call it ‘companion duty’, not babysitter? And you know what, I think I _am_ getting soft,” Dean said, pinching at his stomach for emphasis. “All I’ve done for the past three days is eat, sleep and watch TV. I haven’t been this idle since I broke my leg a couple of years ago.” 

“Castiel still hasn’t woken up?” Bobby asked, returning to reading reports on his computer. 

“Nope,” Dean answered. “But you know, I mean, can’t I wake him up?” Dean asked, his tone half impatient, and half pleading. 

“No, this is part of your job. Observing his behavior. Has he made that ringing sound again?” Bobby asked. 

“No,” Dean said. “And about his behavior? He prefers to sleep more on his right side, has a tendency to kick the blanket off the bed, or hog all of it and bundle it into this makeshift body pillow, doesn’t drool, which is good, doesn’t snore,—you want me to go on? Because that’s all the behavior I’ve been observing since you know, he doesn’t do _anything_ else!” 

Bobby leveled Dean with a stare. “So, what do you want to do? Wake him up so he does some tricks? I don’t care if he sleeps for the whole one month, your job is to stay there and make sure he doesn’t do anything to hurt himself or anyone else. Are we clear?” 

“Well, we’re not getting any information from him anyway while he’s dozing off, are we?” Dean made a last ditch attempt at an argument. 

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that the mere fact that he’s been sleeping for the better part of the past 72 hours is valuable data about his race already?” 

Dean opened and closed his mouth, slumping in his seat when he realized he had nothing to say to that. 

“Ash and the surveillance team are constantly gathering information about him even while he sleeps. So don’t disrupt his natural behavior just because ‘you’re bored’. “ 

“Okay, I get it. I won’t disturb him,” Dean said, raising his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. 

“Now get your ass back to that apartment and do your job,” Bobby told him. “You can bring him in for data collection when he’s woken up.” 

“Fine, fine,” Dean said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 

+++ 

He was already driving to the apartment when the idea struck him. “Computer, dial Ash, Surveillance Division,” he said, glancing briefly at the small screen on his dashboard to make sure the picture that came up was indeed the guy with the mullet. 

“Yo, D, what’s up?” Ash’s voice rang in the car. 

“You’re keeping tabs on Castiel right?” Dean confirmed. It was a useless question. Of course he was. 

“Oh yeah, personally monitoring his feed right now. Dude’s wrapped like a giant burrito on the bed. Why?” 

Dean smirked. “Perfect. Call me if there’re any major changes, okay? I need to make a quick stop somewhere before I head back to the apartment.” 

“Will do,” Ash answered, and as soon as Dean ended the call, he made a turn to go the opposite direction from the apartment. 

+++ 

It was still early in the night and Dean was in the middle of flirting with this brunette in a blue dress when his phone rang. He excused himself and headed outside to take the call. He was surprised to see it was drizzling. 

“Where are you, D? You gotta get back to the apartment,” were Ash’s frantic words. 

“What happened?” Dean asked as he ignored the rain and started walking quickly to his car. 

“Okay so I swear I didn’t take my eyes of the feed when it happened. The dude just woke up all of a sudden and poof!” 

“Poof?! What the fuck does ‘poof’ mean? He what? Disappeared into a puff of smoke?” Dean asked just as he got to his car. 

“Yeah, well, except there was no puff of smoke. He just up and vanished!” Ash told him. 

“Sonnovabitch,” Dean cursed as he put the key in the ignition. “Do you have a visual on him now? Do you know where he is?” 

“Uh, yeah!” Ash said, like it was the most obvious fact in the world. 

“Alright, so where is he?” Dean asked, stepping on the gas and driving a little past the safe speed for driving on rain-wet roads. 

“He’s up on the roof deck,” Ash said, a little calmer this time. “Not standing on a ledge or anything like that. He’s…” 

“He’s what?” Dean said impatiently. 

“He’s sitting on the bench, looking up at the sky.” 

+++ 

Dean found Castiel exactly where Ash told him he’d be. He was sitting out on the roof deck in the light rain, his pale blue pajamas were soaked and his hair was plastered to his forehead, while his bare feet rested in a small puddle on the floor. But contrary to what Ash said, Castiel wasn’t looking at the sky—he had his head titled upward but his eyes were closed, almost as if he’d just fallen asleep like that. 

“You alright there, Castiel?” Dean asked as he approached with an umbrella over his head. “Castiel?” he repeated when he got no answer. He walked up to the bench and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Cas?” he asked, leaning in and inadvertently covering Castiel with the umbrella. 

When the raindrops stopped falling on Castiel’s face, he opened his eyes and turned his head to face him. “Hello, Dean,” he said. 

“How’d you get up here?” Dean asked, ignoring the fact that Castiel called him by his name again. He asked about it the first time, and Castiel explained he heard Sam and Dean talking while he was asleep, and that though he looked human, his senses were still definitely extraterrestrial. It was also why he knew Sam and Dean were brothers just by looking at them. Some sort of alien super senses. “Surveillance said you just disappeared—“ 

“I can fly,” Castiel said. “Very fast.” 

Dean thought it made sense, remembering the shadow of black wings that he saw back at the crash site. “What’re you doing up here, man? You’re gonna catch a cold—“ Dean said, then remembering Castiel’s body worked a little differently than humans, he amended, “I mean, I dunno if you can catch diseases, but okay, those wet clothes couldn’t be comfortable.” 

Looking down at his clothes, Castiel nodded. “It’s not a very pleasant feeling, no,” he agreed, but he held his hands out of the umbrella’s shade and cupped them together, catching the raindrops in his palms. “But rainfall… this is amazing,” he said with a small smile. 

“You’re up here because it’s raining?” Dean asked, moving his umbrella away after belatedly realizing that Castiel might have actually wanted to get rained on. It wouldn’t be of any use anyway, the guy was already soaked to the bone. 

“Thank you,” Castiel said, bringing his hands closer to his chest before separating them and letting the water splash onto his thighs. “The sound of raindrops woke me up,” he explained before he stood up and shook a bit of water out of his hair. 

“I don’t see what’s so special about rain…” Dean asked, trying to ignore the way the thin and now almost-transparent fabric of the pajamas stuck to Castiel like second skin. Dean was a perv. It was practically an illness. 

“Planets in the Hale system have varied forms of rain—glass, diamonds, gelatinous substances—but back on my home planet, it rains water, just like this,” he explained. “What’s different is the _feeling_.” 

“Feeling?” Dean asked. 

“You humans feel it differently than how my kind feels it. Thanks to this form, I’m able to experience it the way you do. It’s… refreshing,” he said with a smile. 

“Uh-huh,” Dean said with a nod. “Well, humans don’t usually just sit in the rain like that, unless they’re homeless. And we don’t sleep for three days straight too, unless we’re sick. Really sick.” 

Castiel’s eyes grew wide at that. “Three days?” he said, surprised. “I slept longer than I intended to,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was my duty to share my knowledge with MIB, but I neglected it in favor of resting. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” 

“It’s cool, everybody oversleeps from time to time,” Dean said, closing his umbrella when the rain finally stopped. “And B reassured me that even in your sleep, you were giving valuable data to MIB.” 

“Nevertheless, I won’t sleep for the duration of my probation,” Castiel insisted. 

“Okay then—wait, you won’t sleep at all? That’s a bit of an overkill…” 

Castiel gave a shrug. “I went without sleep for the equivalent of 17 human years before. It’s no big deal.” 

“Right, of course,” Dean just ended up agreeing. “Now, how about food? Can you go without it for 17 years too?” 

“If I wanted to,” Castiel informed him. 

Dean made a face. “Why would you ever want to skip on food?” he said incredulously. “Come on, it’s just past midnight but I know this great Mexican place. Let’s go back to the apartment and get you dry and dressed for some grub.” 

Castiel gave Dean a confused look but said nothing and followed Dean back into the apartment. 

+++ 

When they returned to the apartment after their midnight snack, Castiel asked how he could operate the ‘viewing screen’ in the living room. Dean sat down on the sofa with Castiel and tried teaching him how to use the remote. Castiel got changing channels and controlling the volume fast, but once Dean started showing him the more advanced features, Castiel just looked at the remote like it was the most baffling piece of technology he had ever seen. 

“What’s Youtube and why can’t I just watch it like all the other channels? Why do I have to go to a different menu and connect to this Internet you’re talking about?” Castiel asked, punching a bunch of random buttons on the remote. 

“Gimme that before you ruin the settings and everybody starts talking in Japanese or something,” Dean said, taking the remote off of Castiel’s hands.“Youtube’s where you go to watch cat videos and the Internet’s what makes Youtube work,” Dean tried to explain, switching the TV to Internet mode and going on Youtube. “You can go to other websites with all sorts of information, and you can send email, play games…” 

Castiel just looked at him with a blank expression. Dean tried a different tactic. 

“ Internet’s this global network of computers that share information—“ Still no reaction. “You know what? Never mind. Let’s just try this one at a time...” Dean said, returning to the regular cable channels and stopping it at HBO where The Avengers was being shown. “Just steer clear of pushing any other buttons besides those for channel and volume, and this to turn the TV off,” Dean instructed. “We’ll just introduce you to the Internet later.” 

Castiel nodded, taking the remote from Dean and experimentally increasing and decreasing the volume. “I would like to learn about Youtube some other time,” Castiel told him. “I think I’d like to look at those cat videos you’re talking about.” 

“Do you even know what a cat is?” Dean asked before moving to leave Castiel alone with his movie. 

“It’s a furry, little thing… Charlie showed me a picture of one on her cell phone. It was black and think it was called ‘Mr. Spock’….” Castiel said distractedly, eyes focused on the screen as Loki told a crowd of people to kneel. “Fascinating,” Castiel whispered in awe. 

Dean chuckled as he went back to his room to grab his laptop. He set it up on the dining table and started typing his daily report on Castiel so he could submit it to Bobby before dawn. Then he remembered the video footage he asked Ash to send him, and he paused his typing in favor of studying Castiel’s ‘disappearance’. 

He played the video and muted it, glancing briefly at Castiel, before looking back at the video. There were at least three different cameras inside Castiel’s bedroom, and Ash sent him the one that had the best view of the bed. For several seconds, it showed Castiel sleeping peacefully in the middle of the bed, hugging the bundled comforter to his chest. Then, his eyes suddenly shot open. He sat up, surprised, and one second he was staring out the window, and the next he was gone. Dean replayed the video, and slowed it down, and still, Castiel just vanished into thin air, without any evidence of his wings, save for the sudden gust of wind that blew the curtains violently before disappearing just as quickly. “Poof,” Dean said to himself, moving back to his document to type the words: 

_Important development:_

_Admitted he can fly. But more likely, it’s some form of teleportation. Based on this, his threat level should be upgraded to ‘High’. However, my interactions with him suggest otherwise. He seems harmless. Threat level remains ‘Moderate.’_

_Will report for Data Collection tomorrow morning._

_Peace out, old man!_

+++ 

The next day, Dean woke up to see Castiel watching the Disney Channel while eating microwave popcorn. 

“The Little Mermaid, seriously?” Dean asked. 

Castiel nodded. “I am enjoying this far better than that cartoon about a yellow sponge. The music is more pleasant to the ears,” he said, smiling when Ariel finished her reprise of Part of Your World, a wave crashing behind her dramatically. 

Dean chuckled. “You’re really enjoying that TV, huh,” he said before making his way into the kitchen. 

“Yes. It’s very… educational,” Dean heard him answer. 

As Dean fixed himself a cup of coffee, he was surprised to see at least half a dozen empty popcorn bags in the garbage can. “You’re enjoying the popcorn, too, huh?” Dean asked, loud enough for Castiel to hear. 

“Sam was kind enough to teach me how the microwave works last night,” Castiel answered. 

“Oh? He still asleep?” Dean asked as he stepped back into the living room, coffee in hand. 

“Yes, still asleep—what are you drinking?” Castiel asked, his attention suddenly focused on the Tardis mug (courtesy of Charlie) that Dean was holding. 

“Coffee, you want some?” Dean asked. 

“Just a taste—may I?” Castiel asked, standing up from the sofa and walking towards Dean. 

Dean was about to offer up the remaining coffee in the kitchen, but Castiel was already standing way too close and extending his hand toward Dean’s mug that he had no choice but to give it to him. Their hands brushed against each other’s and it was like the warmth of Castiel’s skin made Dean’s fingers tingle. “Careful, it’s hot,” Dean warned. 

Castiel nodded, closing his eyes and inhaling the strong aroma of the coffee before taking a careful sip. 

Dean won’t deny that Castiel standing so close was doing weird things to his stomach. It was like he was hyperaware of every minute movement of Castiel’s fingers on the mug, of the slight bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed the coffee, of the tiny tremble in his eyelids just before he opened his eyes and stared right back at Dean. 

A shiver ran down Dean’s spine the moment Castiel fixed his intense stare at him. He felt naked under his gaze—though to be fair, Dean probably looked like he was undressing Castiel with his eyes right now, which wouldn’t be that far from the truth. 

And as if to add to Dean’s growing predicament, Castiel decided to be a tease and darted his tongue out to lick coffee from his lips. The only thought in Dean’s mind at that exact moment was how Castiel’s lips probably tasted like buttered popcorn and coffee. Not a bad combination. Dean would have to taste it for himself, just to be sure. In fact, if he leaned in just a little bit more— 

“Did you make breakfast?” 

Sam’s voice was like ice cubes being dumped in his pants, and with a jolt, Dean stepped away from Castiel. “Ju—“ Dean cleared his throat. “Just coffee,” he answered. 

“It’s a bit bitter,” Castiel said, almost as if nothing happened—or nothing was about to happen. “But I like it,” Castiel said, handing the mug back to Dean who was now a good arm’s length away from him. 

“You might like it with more creamer or sugar,” Dean said, trying to act nonchalant as he accepted the mug and took a long sip. 

Sam just looked at his brother, then at Castiel, then back at his brother, and just rolled his eyes as he passed by them on his way to the kitchen. It was definitely still too early in the morning for this. 

+++ 

Dean brought Castiel to MIB for his first session of Data Collection. With Castiel away, Dean was left with almost nothing to do but send emails and review other agents’ reports all day. The highlight of his day was spending a hurried lunch at the cafeteria with Sam, who was so busy with the legal department but still managed to sneak in a half hour to eat with Dean. Then it was back to desk duty and editing paperwork for other agents who had _actual_ cases to do. 

Castiel was released from Data Collection at nearly nine in the evening—just enough time to grab a bite back at the Roadhouse where Jo would send him knowing looks every time he so much as looked at Castiel a little too long (which was probably more than half the time). Then it was back to the apartment, where Castiel sat on the couch and watched TV and Dean sat on the other side of the couch trying not to think about how the shirt Charlie picked for Castiel stretched nicely against his chest and biceps. Then, of course, that line of thought led to Dean jacking off in his room to thoughts of tearing off said shirt, and seeing if Castiel’s body was as human as it looked—whether he’d shiver if Dean kissed down his neck, whether he’d moan if Dean touched his nipples, and whether he’d cry out in pleasure once Dean made him come. 

The next day went on pretty much the same, except they had Chinese take-out for dinner and Dean jacked off in the shower to images of Castiel licking grease off his fingers. 

By the third day, Dean thought he’d already lost his mind from boredom and sexual frustration, he ended up jacking off to thoughts of Castiel at a restroom cubicle in HQ, and again in his room that night while Castiel watched Game of Thrones in the living room. 

On the fourth day, he had enough of doing nothing that he marched up to Bobby’s office as soon as he delivered Castiel to Data Collection. 

“I’m bored. I need a case,” Dean told Bobby, prepared for an argument. He was determined not to leave the office until Bobby gave him a case. 

“Alright.” 

Dean was not prepared for that. “What?” 

“I said alright. You still think Castiel’s threat level is ‘moderate’?” 

“Well, yeah. My evaluation still hasn’t changed,” Dean answered, still a bit confused. 

“Then you can start bringing him out on cases with you. It’ll get him familiarized with how MIB works too, since he’s a consultant now.” 

“Really? I can work on cases again?” Dean said, not bothering to hide his excitement. 

“Sure. Get Castiel from Data Collection in a couple of hours. He only needs to do half day sessions starting today. Why don’t you tour him around the city while you work?” 

“No problem,” Dean said enthusiastically. “So what’s the case?” 

“You don’t have S with you, and you got to keep an eye on Castiel too, so you’ll have to start small,” Bobby told him. 

“How small?” Dean asked suspiciously. 

++++ 

“Six parking tickets in one day. This is exciting,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes as he slapped a ticket on a spaceship disguised as a blue Honda Accord. 

After picking Castiel up, Dean decided to bring him to a few tourist spots like the Brooklyn Bridge and the Empire State building, stopping to give out parking tickets along the way. The Impala’s computer alerted them of nearby violators, and on their way back from the Empire State, while Castiel tinkered with a couple of souvenirs he bought, the computer beeped and pointed them to the direction of this underground parking garage. 

“I don’t understand how this works. You give them a slip of paper when they have violations. So what is this one’s violation? All the others were illegally parked, like you said,” Castiel asked, reading the ticket stuck to the windshield of the car. 

“Illegal parking. Again. There’s only a handful of designated spaceship parking areas in the city. You don’t wanna park there? Then you use a regular car,” Dean told Castiel as they walked back to the Impala. “I swear B is punishing me for something. I just know it,” he grumbled to himself. 

Just then, a woman carrying a baby hurriedly walked past them, and Dean looked back just in time to see her remove the parking ticket from the windshield and throw it on the floor. “Hey!” Dean called out before doing a 180 back to the car. “You can’t just throw that away, you have to pay the fines, lady,” Dean said. 

The moment Dean spoke, her baby started screeching loudly like a dying bird. “Sorry?” she asked, clearly distressed as she looked at them with all five of her red eyes. She turned to her baby and tried to calm him down with a series of chirps but the screeching just intensified. 

“We’re from the MIB,” Dean said, flashing his badge, and trying to talk over the blood-curdling screeches of the baby. “You’re illegally parked.” 

The woman tried to shush the baby again with her chirps, and turned to Dean and Castiel and started chirping at them too. 

Dean was about to tell her to speak in English—and to stop her baby from crying—when Castiel started chirping beside him too. It would’ve almost been comical, and any other day, Dean might’ve laughed. But instead he stood there dumbfounded as Castiel, ever so serious, conversed with another alien by making bird noises in his unmistakable low, gravelly voice. 

Soon the baby’s screeches died down, and the mother seemed less distressed. Castiel bent down to pick up the parking ticket from the floor, and smoothed it out before handing it to the woman, who smiled and made a few more chirping sounds. They seemed to have reached an agreement, and just when Dean was going to remind her to pay the ticket—he felt Castiel’s hand on his sleeve, pulling him away hurriedly. 

Dean looked back at the mother and child just in time to see them get in the car. “What was that all about?” he asked when they were a good distance away. 

“She was in a hurry and thought it was just another flier. It was all a misunderstanding,” Castiel explained as they made their way back to the Impala. 

“Really?” Dean asked, a little suspicious. He’s heard all kinds of excuses before. “She couldn’t tell me this herself?” 

“She didn’t want to talk. Her baby’s ears are still too sensitive. The sound of human languages makes him irritable.” 

“Oh,” Dean said in understanding. “Good thing you know how to speak bird then, huh?” he said, grinning. “Cool,” Dean said. “I never realized you could make those kinds of sounds,” he added, and he totally didn’t mean to make it sound dirtier than it was. 

“You find it funny,” Castiel accused, though there was laughter in his voice. 

“Hey man, I’m impressed,” Dean said. “Definitely makes giving out parking tickets more interesting.” 

Castiel cocked his head to the side. “You don’t like giving out parking tickets?” 

“Dude, I did this when I was 18. I’m having bad flashbacks,” Dean said, climbing into the Impala. 

He checked the computer for any more nearby violators, and when there were none left, Dean decided it was time for dinner. 

+++ 

“How about I teach you how to prepare human food?” Dean asked, opening the freezer to check the contents. “Let’s see…” 

“I know how to make Beef Stroganoff,” Castiel informed Dean. 

Dean looked at Castiel incredulously. “You _know_ how to make Beef Stroganoff?” 

“I haven’t actually made one myself… but this program at the Food Network was demonstrating how to cook it. It seems simple enough,” Castiel said, pushing Dean aside as he searched for the ingredients in the refrigerator. 

“You got the ingredients down?” 

“Yes. It’s in here,” Castiel said, tapping his temple with a finger. 

“Okay. Beef Stroganoff it is,” Dean said. “If this turns out badly though, we’re gonna go with the instant Mac and Cheese I saw in the pantry.” 

Castiel stopped gathering the ingredients and turned to look at Dean. “It won’t,” he said seriously. 

“Okay,” Dean repeated. “I’ll go look for the pasta.” 

“Not pasta,” Castiel corrected. “A pound of wide egg noodles,” he said as he placed the ingredients on the counter top. An onion slipped from the pile and rolled off the edge of the counter, but to Dean’s surprise, it floated back up and landed on the counter with a little spin. 

“Dude, what was that? Your alien mojo?” he asked, pointing to the offending onion. “Powers? Not-so-human abilities…?” Dean clarified when Castiel looked at him in confusion. 

Castiel shrugged. “I think you call it telekinesis,” he said like it was nothing. 

“Huh, cool,” Dean said, impressed. “You have to show me some more of that some time.” 

“Sure. So long as you don’t forget those cat videos on Youtube I wanted to see,” Castiel said with a smile. 

Dean grinned. “No problem.” 

+++ 

Dinner preparation took longer than they anticipated, but it was perfectly fine for Dean. He wasn’t planning on sleeping that night anyway. They both donned aprons upon Castiel’s insistence, and helped Castiel prepare the ingredients. It was a testament to how thorough the Relocation Division was in stocking the apartment that the only thing missing was the exact kind of egg noodles Castiel wanted. Dean tried to convince Castiel it was perfectly fine to use the Fusilli they had, but Castiel was adamant they stick to the recipe, so Dean had no choice but to call Alfie for some help. 

Alfie came to their apartment ten minutes later, holding a pound of egg noodles to his chest. “Wow, you guys are cooking?” he asked, barging into the apartment when Dean opened the door. 

“It’s mostly Castiel. I’m just helping out,” Dean said. 

“That’s so cool, you know how to cook already!” Alfie gushed, dropping the package of noodles onto the counter and looking over Castiel’s shoulder as he chopped some garlic. 

“The television was very informative,” Castiel said. “I know the mechanics of digging for gold in Alaska, and apparently humans don’t think it’s very wise to name your child ‘North.’” 

“We’ve got to talk about what kinds of shows you should be watching, Cas,” Dean said as he took out a carton of beef stock. 

“Cas?” Alfie asked. 

Dean cut the carton open and looked back at Alfie. “What about it?” 

“Dean calls you ‘Cas’? Can I call you ‘Cas’ too?” he asked Castiel. 

Castiel shrugged. “It _is_ a shortened version of my name, so I don’t mind.” 

“Cool,” Alfie said, grinning. “My real name’s Samandriel, but people kept butchering it so Agent A just went and called me ‘Alfie’.” 

“It _is_ easier to say,” Dean agreed. 

Castiel finished up the garlic and took the onions to chop next. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Alfie said, taking a few steps back. “That’s my cue to leave.” 

“Onions?” Dean asked. “You allergic?” 

“Not really, but my eyes are pretty delicate. Can’t handle the sting. I’ll end up crying for the next couple of days.” 

“Oh okay then,” Dean said, secretly happy the kid was leaving on his own. Onions. Crying. He’d have to keep that in mind. 

“I’d love to taste the final product, so gimme some leftovers okay? Bye!” he said, practically running out the door the moment Castiel’s knife sliced through the first onion. 

Dean chuckled as he poured the stock into a bowl. After a few moments, he noticed Castiel had stopped chopping onions. “You too?” he asked, when he saw tears started to well in Castiel’s. 

“This is interesting,” Castiel said as the tears began to fall, and Dean thought it was actually pretty damn adorable the way Castiel just continued chopping the onions while tears streamed down his face. Once the onions were done, however, he stepped back and wiped his face with a damp cloth. 

“Did the stinging stop?” Dean asked. “Because it’d suck if you kept on crying for another two days.” 

Castiel looked at Dean, big, blue eyes blinking a few times, before he smiled. “I’m okay now,” he said in relief. 

After that, the preparations went on without a hitch. While Castiel continued to chop and measure ingredients like an expert, Dean prepared the stove and the pot. Dean enjoyed the easy way they worked together, and when he found himself standing beside Castiel in front of the stove, he realized everything was just very domestic, bordering on intimate even, with their sides pressed against each other from hip to shoulder as they cooked together. And Dean couldn’t bring himself to care. 

+++ 

“Ohh, this is good,” Dean said with a groan of appreciation as they began eating their dinner at 11 in the evening. 

Castiel twisted his fork into the noodles like he saw Dean doing and gave a satisfied nod when he enjoyed the taste. 

“You should definitely watch more cooking shows. Maybe you could learn how to bake pie!” Dean said excitedly. 

“I was surprised to see several channels dedicated to cooking and eating. You humans seem to put a lot of importance on your food,” Castiel remarked. 

Dean shrugged. “Food’s the easiest way to be happy, man. That, and sex,” he said without thinking. 

Castiel glanced at Dean, and Dean tried not to stare at the way Castiel’s tongue peeked out to lick his lips. “You enjoy sex,” Castiel stated bluntly. 

Dean choked on his noodles. 

Cocking his head to the side, Castiel amended his statement. “You _don’t_ enjoy sex?” he asked. 

“Of course I like sex. I mean, who doesn’t like sex?” Dean said after a couple of large gulps of water. “You like sex, right? Assuming your kind does the dirty too. No asexual reproduction or anything like that?” he asked, trying for nonchalance by bringing his fork to his mouth and chewing. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Castiel looked down as if he were embarrassed. “My kind engages in sex…” 

“Your kind? What about—wait…” Dean said, realizing why Castiel was acting like a blushing virgin. “You mean to tell me, you haven’t--?” he let the question hang, his eyes wide in disbelief. 

“I’ve never had occasion, okay?” Castiel answered awkwardly. 

“Not really, not once? With a pretty little thing from your planet? Really?” Dean asked, still unable to believe what he was hearing. 

Castiel shook his head. “I was, uh, dedicated to my work,” he answered, and Dean let out a laugh before he could stop himself, earning him a glare from Castiel. “I don’t see _you_ having any sex recently either.” 

“Dude, how would you even know? You’ve only been here a few days,” Dean said with laughter in his voice. 

“You don’t smell like a person who’s been copulating with someone recently. Also, you smell aroused quite a lot of times, to be honest, too many times for someone who’s actually been having sex.” 

Dean gaped. Nothing could describe the pure horror and mortification that Dean felt at that moment. 

“What the hell?! You _smell_ me?”he asked, face burning with embarrassment when he realized Castiel probably knew whenever Dean was perving on him. 

At that, Castiel seemed a little bit apologetic. “Not actively. I don’t go around sniffing you if that’s what you’re saying. That’s just how it is. I thought you were aware of my heightened senses—my alien mojo?” 

“Not the point,” Dean tried to recover. “So you—you can smell that? Seriously? What are you a bloodhound?” 

“You’re angry,” Castiel observed. 

“I’m—“ Dean took a deep breath. “I’m not angry… but I feel like my privacy’s been violated.” 

“I apologize. If it’s any consolation, my nose picks up everyone’s scent. Not just yours,” Castiel tried to placate Dean. 

“So you’re okay with it?” Dean asked tentatively. He didn’t want to outright say ‘so you’re not mad that I have impure thoughts about you?’ He could only withstand so much embarrassment for one day. 

Castiel shrugged. “It’s natural to experience arousal. I can smell it on everyone at some point or another.” 

“Even Sam?” Dean asked, trying to shift the focus away from him. 

“Yes, even Sam,” Castiel confirmed. 

“Alright then,” Dean said, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms on his chest. “So, is my brother getting more action than I am?” 

Castiel regarded Dean, and leaned back on his chair too. “I think _that’s_ a violation of Sam’s privacy.” 

“Please, we’re brothers,” Dean said. “Never been any privacy between us.” 

A few seconds of Castiel just staring at Dean passed, and as if he was surrendering, he sighed and leaned closer to the table again. “Yes. And if you must know, he had a very satisfying make-out session with a girl last night. Before he went home. She had a wicked tongue.” 

Dean grimaced. “Dude, TMI,” he said. 

“TMI?” Castiel asked in confusion. 

“Too much information,” Dean clarified. “I did not need to hear that.” 

“But I thought you wanted to know how your brother’s faring in the sexual department?” Castiel asked, and was that a note of teasing in his voice? 

“How do you even know these things? Seriously. You couldn’t have smelled all of that on him.” 

“Your brother talks to himself while he’s in his room,” Castiel informed Dean. 

“Oh, eww, never mind,” Dean said, sticking his tongue out. “Forget what I said about me and Sam and privacy. Anything you hear or see or smell or whatever, you keep to yourself okay? At least let’s pretend you don’t actually know everything we’re doing when we’re around you.” 

“Alright. If that would make you feel better,” Castiel said, a barely there smile lingering on his face. 

After dinner, Dean taught Castiel how to use a computer, and after a couple of hours, Castiel was navigating Youtube on his own, watching videos of cats and dogs and sloths and any other animal he came across. Dean sat beside him on the sofa, flipping through the channels and settling on an old Will Smith flick he didn’t recognize. 

A few minutes of watching though, he realized it was Independence Day and thought it was not very appropriate to watch another movie about alien invasions when there’s an alien right next to him. He moved to change the channel, but Castiel looked up from the laptop screen at that moment and stared intently at the TV. “For a race that thinks aliens are fictional, you do enjoy making films about us,” he commented. “Although, the portrayal seems one dimensional. Not all aliens are evil beings that want to take over the world.” 

“You’re right about that. Some just want to skip the hostile invasion and go straight to destroying Earth,” Dean said. There was a flash of anger and some other emotion in Castiel’s eyes, and Dean thought he may have been offended. “That was a joke,” he informed him. “Not a very good one, sorry,” he apologized. 

Castiel shifted in his seat, pushing himself further into the corner of the sofa, and Dean tried not to think he did that to get some distance between them. “It’s fine,” Castiel said, voice a little tight. 

“Worked with aliens all my life, I know you guys can be as nice or as evil as any other human out there,” Dean said, trying to do some damage control. “Plus, there’re some movies where aliens are the good guys… like ET and that James Cameron one with blue aliens… Avatar, I think. You should watch those,” he suggested. “You might like Avatar. Zoe Saldana was hot as an alien,” he added with a smirk. 

Castiel smiled a little at that. “You must know though, more than other humans, what aliens are capable of,” he said after a few quiet moments. 

“Yeah, of course,” Dean answered. “There’s always an apocalypse or two every year. We just try our best to survive every one of them.” 

“And if you don’t?” Castiel asked, staring directly at Dean’s eyes, and Dean couldn’t possibly blink even if he wanted to. 

“Then we don’t. Everything has to end sometime, right? But if it does happen someday, I’d like to go out fighting.” 

“There’s no better way to go,” Castiel agreed, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

Dean stared at that sad expression on Castiel’s face, and it suddenly hit him: Castiel was worried about his home planet. Seeing fictional aliens trying to destroy the Earth probably upset him, because it was the reality that his own world was facing at that very moment. And instead of fighting till the end like Dean said, Castiel ran. He escaped to safety, and that must be eating him up inside. 

Dean felt like shoving his foot in his mouth. He really should start reading Castiel more and thinking before he spoke. Times like this he actually wished Sam was here. That way there’d be someone to knock some sense into him and prevent him from saying anything stupid again. 

+++ 

The pillow under Dean’s head shifted, and he woke in an instant. The moment he opened his eyes, he made several discoveries: one, he had fallen asleep on the sofa sometime in the night; two, Castiel was still seated beside him watching a morning show; three, his head fell against Castiel’s shoulder at some point, and wow, the skin on Castiel’s neck looked really smooth; and four—and this one was the kicker— he was sporting a rather impressive morning wood. 

“Fuck,” Dean cursed, scrambling away to the other end of the sofa and reaching for the throw pillow to cover his crotch. “You let me sleep,” he accused Castiel. 

Castiel turned his gaze away from the TV to look at Dean. “I had no idea you didn’t want to sleep.” 

Dean opened his mouth and closed it again. “How long was I out?” 

“Almost two hours,” Castiel said like Dean sleeping beside him—or on him—was an everyday thing. 

Dean stared at Castiel’s face, trying to find any signs of what he was thinking. Finally, when he couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room, he sighed, defeated. “You can smell it.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—“ 

“Oh come on. This!” He said, pointing to his pillow-covered crotch. 

Castiel made a face as if he was displeased. “You told me I should pretend not to sense these things,” he reminded Dean. 

Dean gaped like a fish again. “Okay, I said that,” he admitted. “But seriously? You’re not gonna react to, uh, all of this?” he asked, hands flying in front of him in a vague gesture. 

“I don’t understand. How am I supposed to react?” Castiel asked, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“I dunno? Offended maybe? Embarrassed? Angry?” Dean suggested. 

Castiel looked even more confused. “Why would I be angry?” 

“You don’t know?” Dean asked, but Castiel just gave him the same confused look. “You don’t know,” he stated. 

“I don’t know what?” Castiel asked. “This conversation is very baffling.” 

“Okay,” Dean said, wiping his face with both his hands. “You know whenever I’m… aroused,” he said, the word almost painful for him to say. 

Castiel nodded. 

“You know _why_ I’m aroused?” 

“Is this what they call ‘morning wood’?” Castiel asked. “Because I caught a medical show discussing it and how those with erectile dysfunction can’t have—“ 

“Yes, it’s morning wood. It’s a normal male thing,” Dean interjected. “But that’s not what I’m getting at. I get like this—“ Dean started to say but suddenly lost the words. 

“You get aroused because--?” Castiel tried urging on. 

“Because—because of you,” Dean said, voice losing volume with each word. 

It was like a light bulb was switched inside Castiel’s head the moment Dean’s words sank in. “Oh,” he said in understanding. 

“Oh, right,” Dean parroted. “You get it now?” 

Castiel nodded. “That _is_ a problem. It would interfere with your work.” 

Dean blinked. “Well, not really but… so wait,” Dean said, shaking his head. “You’re not angry or anything?”  
Castiel cocked his head to the side. “I think we’ve already had this conversation,” he remarked. “Why would I be angry?” 

“So you’re okay with it? With me, you know, and with this,” Dean said, gesturing to his lap. 

“It’s not like I can stop you from feeling what you feel,” Castiel said with a shrug. 

“And what if I acted on it?” Dean asked. 

“I promise to try and tune you out of my senses when you do,” Castiel said earnestly. 

“What?” Dean asked. 

“You need to be alone in your room now? Or in the shower?” Castiel asked innocently, and Dean couldn’t help the laugh the bubbled out of his chest at how infuriatingly endearing Castiel was being. He wanted to kiss him senseless just so he could get that innocent, puppy-dog look off of his face. 

“No! I meant with _you_!” Dean said with laughter in his voice. 

“Oh,” he said again. “You want to… with me?” Castiel asked tentatively. 

“Only if you want to. I mean, I get that you’re not really human so I probably don’t fall into what you’d consider your type to be—“ 

“I want to,” Castiel interrupted, shifting in his seat to face Dean more. 

“You want to?” Dean asked, trying not to sound too pleased with the idea. 

“Yes. And as for type… I don’t mind. You seem to be a very handsome human,” Castiel said bluntly. 

Dean laughed loudly again. “Glad to know my good looks transcend species.” 

“I find your lips to be oddly distracting,” he said, eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before looking up at his eyes again. 

“Really?” Dean asked, licking his lips to draw more attention to them as he felt his waning erection start to swell again under Castiel’s gaze. 

“I’m not quite sure how we’re going to do this, though,” Castiel admitted, eyes falling back to Dean’s lips. 

“How about we start slow…?” Dean suggested, moving to sit closer to Castiel. He decided to be bold and placed a warm hand on Castiel’s thigh. 

Castiel gulped, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “And how do we start slow?” 

“Like this,” Dean said, before leaning forward and capturing Castiel’s lips with his own. 

As far as kisses go, it wasn’t perfect. Dean probably had morning breath and Castiel just sat there so stiffly, it felt like kissing a stone statue. He really couldn’t blame him—this was his first kiss in human form, and the moment that thought crossed Dean's mind, he felt his arousal spike even higher. 

Castiel got with the program eventually, opening his mouth to let Dean kiss him fully. That’s when things got really interesting—the kind of interesting that would surely have Dean jacking off in the shower later on. 

The dazed look on Castiel’s face after they kissed was definitely something to replay in his alone-time in the shower too. 

“Good?” Dean asked with a chuckle. 

Castiel answered by pulling Dean by his collar and kissing him again. 

+++ 

When Dean said they could start slow, he honestly didn’t anticipate just how mind blowing a kiss (or two or three) with Castiel could be. What he lacked in experience and technique, he more than made up for with enthusiasm and passion. Plus, he was a quick learner, and Dean couldn’t help but think of all the things he could be teaching Castiel now. At home. Preferably in bed. 

But, nope. Instead they were out on the road again, patrolling for alien parking violators. “Ugh. This blows,” Dean complained as they drove out for lunch after dishing out a few tickets. “This is the sort of job they give to unsuspecting teenage recruits. Not senior agents.” 

“You have been an agent since you were young?” Castiel asked. 

“Huh?” Dean asked. “Uh yeah, me and Sam. It’s sort of a family business,” Dean said jokingly. “Both our parents were agents. When mom got pregnant with me, they both left MIB, got neuralyzed and all that, so they could live a normal life.” 

“I take it that didn’t last,” Castiel said, almost apologetically. 

Dean gave a hollow laugh. “Got that right,” he said. Keeping his eyes focused on the road, Dean thought there was no harm in telling Castiel about his life. If he was going to start working with the guy from now on, it’d be good for both of them if they got to know each other better. 

“When Sam was still a baby, Azazel, this alien with a grudge on my parents, tracked us down and decided he’d like his long overdue revenge. He came in one night, tried to murder Sam in his crib. My mom protected Sam, and Azazel killed her. Would’ve killed us all too, but Bobby—Agent B—he came and saved us. Azazel escaped though. And after that, someone in MIB thought it’d be a great idea to bring Dad back so he could help hunt down mom’s killer,” Dean said. 

“And you two came along with him,” Castiel finished for Dean. 

“Yeah. MIB had no choice but to take us in. Azazel was still at large, and he might come back to finish the job, so you know, we had bodyguards and 24/7 surveillance on us growing up. Pretty sure there’s surveillance footage of every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done,” Dean said with a laugh that was only partly forced. “It just felt natural to be agents once we grew a bit older.” 

“And your father?” Castiel asked. 

“Well, we caught Azazel, and lost our dad the same day. That was two years ago,” Dean said, ending it with a shrug to make it seem less serious than it actually was. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Castiel said, and Dean couldn’t ignore the sadness and sincerity in his voice. 

“It’s fine,” Dean said. “You lost someone too?” 

Castiel frowned. “Why do you ask?” 

“You sound like you lost someone too. Want to share? I mean, I told you my life story man. I laid it all out there. It’s only fair you do the same,” Dean said, half jokingly. 

“Alright,” Castiel said. “I don’t want you to feel I’m being unfair.” 

Dean smiled. “So, what’s your sob story? Civil war back home can’t be good,” Dean said as they pulled up to his favorite steakhouse. 

“No it isn’t,” Castiel admitted. 

Dean turned the ignition off, removed his seatbelt, and twisted in his seat to look at Castiel. “Why’d you really leave home, Cas?” he asked. He’s been thinking about that the moment he found out Castiel was a refugee. He’d seen many alien refugees in his time. Most of them were families who wanted to escape the violence in their home planets. Some of them escaped to Earth to avoid persecution. What was Castiel’s excuse? 

“I’m much like you, I suppose,” Castiel began, looking out the window like he was lost in thought. “I am—I _was_ a soldier. I fought alongside my brothers and sisters. It was our duty to keep the peace in all the galaxies under my father’s rule.” 

“Okay,” Dean said, trying not to sound too surprised. “So your dad was this like great ruler—was he like the king of the Hale system?” 

“You could say that,” Castiel said with a small smile, turning around to meet Dean’s eyes. “I am amused by the name your people gave my homeland. Hale. Because that’s what our system used to be. Strong. But now, it’s struggling,” he said, his face a picture of sadness. “A long time ago, my father left to explore the galaxies outside our realm, and he hasn’t returned since. My older brothers began to fight each other for control over the system, until one of them betrayed us… his name was Lucifer. Several years ago, we managed to defeat Lucifer and his forces, and as punishment, he was sent to the Pit of the Universe. He’s been locked up there ever since…but his forces are still very strong, creating havoc and trying to bring him back. It hasn’t been the same since.” Castiel lowered his eyes to his hands on his lap. 

When it seemed like Castiel wasn’t going to continue, Dean spoke up. “I get it. Must have been hard, seeing your family going against each other. Is that why you left? Because you didn’t want to see your brothers fighting?” 

Castiel took a deep breath as he looked out the windshield. “I didn’t leave,” he said, squinting as his gaze lingered on something far off and intangible. Then, he looked at Dean again, and the weight of his stare seemed almost too much for Dean. Because in his all too human eyes, there was something dark and deep there, a sort of never-ending pool of sadness and pain, and guilt. So much guilt. “I was punished.” 

“Punished?” Dean parroted, at a loss with how to take this information. “For what? You don’t strike me as the war criminal sort of guy,” he said, no hint of accusation in his voice. 

“I admire your trust in me, Dean, but I’m afraid you’re wrong. My brothers and sisters, they exiled me for committing an unforgivable crime,” he said, a small, pitiful smile on his face. “You asked me if I lost someone. I did. I lost everything: my home and my family,” he said. He breathed a shaky sigh. “And now I’m here, and I can’t go back.” 

Dean opened his mouth but couldn’t find the right words to say. “What was it? Your crime?” he finally managed on his third attempt at speech. When he realized it must have sounded suspicious and inconsiderate, he added: “I mean, what was so big of a deal that they had to throw you out like that? You’re _family_.” 

“Disobedience,” Castiel said. “I was exiled because I disobeyed.” 


	5. Chapter 5

“Does it really change anything, Dean?” 

Dean knew Bobby was serious as hell when the old guy called him by his name, and not his agent designation. 

He was back in the headquarters the next day, while Castiel was in Data Collection again. Dean didn’t mind the wait. It meant he had more time to talk to Bobby. And to figure out why he was keeping these things about Castiel a secret. 

“Of course it changes things,” Dean insisted. “Being a refugee and being exiled are two very different things. If he was exiled, there may be aliens out there who’d want him dead. I thought the reason why I had to keep an eye on him was because he might be a threat to us. You didn’t think it was important for me to know that his life may also be in danger?” 

At that, Bobby looked a little sheepish. “That’s why I put you in this job. You think I’d assign one of my best to a babysitting gig like this if I didn’t think it was important?” 

“’Companion’ gig, remember?” Dean corrected. “If I’m going to do this job well, I need to know everything.” 

“Fine,” Bobby said, leaning back on his chair. “What exactly do you want to know?” 

“What did Castiel do?” Dean asked. 

“I thought he told you,” Bobby said in confusion. “That’s why you’re here, right?” 

“He just told me he was exiled for disobeying. I wanna know what it was he disobeyed. I tried asking him a couple of times but he just shot me down every time.” 

“Ah, then I’m sorry, boy, I can’t tell you,” Bobby said. 

“Why not? Don’t tell me it’s above my pay grade,” Dean said, getting exponentially frustrated by the minute. 

“It is,” Bobby said, but when Dean opened his mouth to complain, he raised a hand to shush him. “But more than that… it isn’t my story to tell. If Castiel wants you to know, he’ll tell you in his own time. You have to respect that.” 

Dean slumped in his chair. “I hate it when you’re right,” he grumbled. 

Bobby grinned. “Boy, I’m always right.” 

+++ 

“Did you know that your agent designation, the D, is very popular on the Internet?” 

Dean dropped his fork and looked almost livid. “Alright, who made that joke at HQ again? Was it Charlie?” 

To his side, Sam laughed so hard, he accidentally flipped his fork and splattered mac and cheese all over his shirt. It was the first time Sam was able to come home early enough for dinner, and it just felt so natural to be here, sitting around the dinner table with Sam and Castiel, sharing stories and jokes with each other. Of course now the joke was at his expense. 

“No seriously, who’s reviving ‘the D’ gag again?” Dean asked. “It took me three months of constantly threatening to shoot anyone who mentions it before the jokes actually died down.” 

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. “No one,” he answered. “I just saw it on the Internet. Everybody seems to be writing about wanting ‘the D’. I thought you’d be pleased to know that people like your letter designation.” 

“Castiel, do you even know what ‘the D’ is referring to?” Sam said, laughter still in his voice. 

“I assumed it’s something desirable…” 

Dean choked on macaroni. 

“It’s not?” Castiel asked, and he actually looked a bit upset and jumping to the wrong conclusion. 

“It’s—“ Dean took huge gulps of his beer before continuing. “I guess…” he said, struggling to explain it. “I suppose it could be—I mean, yeah sure, you can definitely call it desirable,” he said with an awkward grin. 

“The D means dick, Castiel. As in penis,” Sam explained, and thank god for younger brothers who have the ability not to snigger like a grade schooler at the mere mention of human private parts. 

Dean could pinpoint the exact moment realization dawned on Castiel’s face. It started with his eyes growing impossibly wide, followed by his mouth falling open slightly, and his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Oh,” was the only sound that came out of his mouth. 

“Now you get why that joke had to die?” Dean said with a chuckle. 

Castiel recovered himself. “Of course. I apologize. It’s not appropriate for people to be making fun of your designation like that.” 

“You should’ve been here when Agent P was still active,” Sam commented, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh at that. 

“Yeah, those were good,” Dean agreed. 

“Why? What’s wrong with P?” Castiel asked. “Did it mean penis too?” 

The laughter that erupted between Sam and Dean was probably the loudest and longest they’ve shared in a long time. All because of Castiel and penis jokes. 

+++ 

“I still don’t understand,” Castiel said later that night, breathless and in the middle of a make out session with Dean on the couch, Sam already fast asleep in his own room. 

“Understand what?” Dean asked distractedly, kissing his mouth again and moving his hands under Castiel’s shirt. 

Castiel jerked in surprise when Dean’s hands found his nipples, but he continued speaking nonetheless. “What was wrong with P?” 

Dean chuckled, moving his mouth to trace kisses up Castiel’s jaw and giving a bite to Castiel’s earlobe. “Nothing’s wrong with the letter p, unless you get called that every day by adults who like toilet jokes and have the maturity of third graders.” 

“P?” Castiel asked again. 

Dean stopped and leaned back from Castiel to check if he was seriously asking him about this right now. And the answer was yes. Yes he was. 

“P, yes. P-e-e. Pee. Urine. It’s a childish joke,” Dean explained, trying not to sound as exasperated as he really was. He can’t believe he was being cockblocked by his partner’s curiosity about tasteless jokes. 

A laugh bubbled out of Castiel’s chest when realization finally dawned on him. Not his usual quiet chuckle, but an actual laugh that had his nose crinkling and his mouth splitting into a smile that was all gums and teeth. And the only thing Dean could think about at that moment was ‘wow’. Just wow. 

There was no doubt. Dean had it bad. 

“You’re right. That is rather juvenile. But it’s funny,” Castiel said, laughter still in his voice. 

But Dean almost didn’t hear his words because he was so focused on the sparkle of mirth in Castiel’s eyes, and the gorgeous blush staining his cheeks— and then just like that, Dean was gone. 

He swooped down and kissed Castiel with so much hunger and passion, it took all other thoughts away from Castiel’s mind and soon he was kissing back with equal fervor, hands raking through Dean’s short hair. 

None of their kisses before this could ever compare. Like all of those were merely practice, and this was the real thing, making Castiel feel like he was burning up inside. 

Dean was panting when they finally broke the kiss, and he smirked when he saw Castiel was just as out of breath as he was. He looked shocked though. Like he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what had just happened. “You still thinking about jokes right now?” Dean quipped. 

Castiel blinked, and looked straight into Dean’s eyes, and holy shit, he looked scared and confused. 

“Cas?” Dean asked. 

“It’s… it feels…” Castiel began, shifting uncomfortably under Dean. 

“You okay?” Dean asked as Castiel squirmed again, and that’s when Dean felt something hard against his hip. “Cas… is that…?” Dean said, leaning back to look between them, down at Castiel’s lap. Even in the dim light, the flannel pajamas Castiel wore was unmistakably tented in front. “You’re hard,” Dean said in disbelief before his face lit up like a kid at Christmas morning. 

“It feels…” Castiel said again. 

“What?” Dean said, slowly gliding a hand up Castiel’s thigh. 

Castiel shivered in response. “It feels uncomfortable,” he said with a grimace. “Is this how it feels like for humans to be aroused?” 

“Pretty much,” Dean said with a chuckle. “It could get really bad if you don’t take care of it. But don’t worry,” Dean said, planting another kiss on Castiel’s lips. “We could take care of it right now if you want to.” 

“Iwantto,” Castiel answered immediately. “How do we do this?” 

“Preferably with a little less clothes,” Dean said. 

“And then you’ll teach me how?” Castiel asked. “So I could take care of yours too?” he said, coyly looking down at the bulge in Dean’s pants. 

Dean thought he couldn’t get even more aroused. Apparently, he was wrong. 

“Yeah, yeah I like the sound of that,” he said, and when Castiel started to unbutton his shirt, Dean stopped him. “Not here,” Dean said. “Jeez, Sam could wake up any moment… let’s take this to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.” 

+++ 

Dean was writing out his third parking ticket of the day when he got a call from Bobby. Honestly, he didn’t seem to mind the lameness of traffic duty that morning. He was too busy daydreaming about last night with Castiel to let a few illegally parked spaceships ruin his day. Still, the call from Bobby was a welcome distraction, and he answered it with a genuinely happy smile on his face “Came to check up on me? I’m writing those tickets like you asked,” Dean informed Bobby. 

“You sound like you’re in a good mood,” Bobby commented. 

“Eeh, had a good night last night,” Dean said. 

“I bet you did,” Bobby grunted. 

Dean tried not to think about how Bobby knew everything that happened in MIB—so he probably already knew everything that was going on between Castiel and Dean as well. Damn, maybe he even caught a glimpse of surveillance footage of the apartment last night (which Dean should totally get a copy of from Ash). Dean certainly wouldn’t put it past him. 

“ Well, today’s your lucky day. Castiel’s got a shorter session today. Why don’t you finish those tickets and come back here. I got a case you both can do.” 

“Really?” Dean asked with little enthusiasm. “What’s it about?” 

+++ 

“A break-in?” Castiel said, stopping to stare at the grand façade of the Met Museum as Dean climbed the stairs ahead of him. 

“Yup,” Dean said. “Come on, follow me. I don’t want you getting lost with the tour groups and the school kids.” 

Castiel nodded and followed Dean up the stairs and into the museum. 

“So, intruder entered the restricted section, somehow got into the storage area and stole an ancient stone thing—“ Dean started to explain. He looked back at Castiel and saw he was distracted by the art displays they were walking past. It was easy to tell Castiel wanted nothing more than to linger and actually look at the displays. 

“Don’t worry. We can go back here some other time when we’re not on a case,” Dean told him. 

Castiel looked at him like a kid who’d just been told they’d be going to Disneyland. “I’d like that very much.” 

Dean chuckled. “I thought you might,” he said, feeling his face warming up all of a sudden. The hero worship in Castiel’s eyes probably had something to do with it. “Alright, it’s this way.” 

+++ 

“They caught the intruder—an alien— hiding in a broom closet hugging the stone. They’re keeping him in that room over there,” Dean told Castiel, nodding his head towards a door where a plump security guard stood watch. “Just follow my lead. Try not to say anything.” 

“We’re here for the suspect,” Dean said, flashing his FBI badge—a real one—to the guard. 

The security guard took a split second look at the badge and scrambled to open the door for them and get out of the way. “Doctor, the feds are here,” the guard said, eagerly ushering them in. 

“Thank you, Mr. Cupid. Please let them in,” a woman’s voice said. 

Dean didn’t know what he expected to see, but a scrawny high school kid crying his eyes out as he refused to let go of the stone in his hands wasn’t one of them. 

A middle-aged blonde woman leaned on the desk in front of him, probably trying to intimidate him. She looked back in confusion at them. “The feds? I didn’t call the feds,” she said. 

“You didn’t have to,” Dean said. “We have informants who keep us in the loop about these kinds of incidents.” 

She looked at them up and down, as if trying to determine how much of their words she can believe. 

“I’m Agent Smith, and this is FBI Special Consultant Jones,” Dean said. 

“Dr. Eleanor Visyak,” she replied. 

“So… this kid? This the intruder?” 

“Afraid so,” she said. “What are you planning to do? ” she asked, standing between the two men and the kid. 

“We just wanna ask him a few questions,” Dean said with a well placed smile that eased the tension on Eleanor’s shoulders. 

She walked up to them and gestured for them to turn away from the kid. “Honestly, gentlemen, he seems like a good kid. Probably just going through a rough phase,” she whispered. “We just want our tablet back; we’re not looking to press charges or anything so I’d appreciate it if we just keep this between us.” 

“I’m sure we can come up with a good arrangement,” Dean said, looking back at the kid who was wiping his nose with his sleeve. 

“Alright, I’ll leave you alone with him,” she said before stepping out of the room. 

Dean looked back at the door, making sure it was closed before he walked up to the kid. “Kevin Tran?” 

The boy looked up at Dean with red eyes. “Yeah?” 

Dean sat on the chair in front of the kid and gestured for Castiel to sit on the other side. “We’re from the MI—“ Dean began to say, and Kevin’s face fell. 

“Oh my god, it’s my mom, isn’t it? He came to you guys because I skipped school,” he said, mortified. 

“She was worried,” Dean said. 

“Oh no I’m dead, I am so dead,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Why _did_ you skip school, Kev? And why are you holding on to that rock for dear life?” Dean asked. 

Kevin sniffed. “I dreamed about it,” he said. 

“About what?” 

“The Earth ending. It was terrible,” Kevin said, looking utterly distraught. 

A chill ran down Dean’s spine at Kevin’s words. The Trans were immigrants from a planet of highly intelligent beings that had the ability to see into the future. Their visions didn’t always come true. They predicted Romney would win the election and it caused panic in MIB before it was oh so satisfyingly proven wrong a few weeks later. Since then, MIB had been very cautious about believing any Tran predictions. 

“Relax, Kevin,” Dean said. “How many of your dreams have come true lately?” 

Kevin stopped. “None in the last six or eight months,” he admitted. “But this one seemed so real! I saw a really bright light falling from the sky, then shards of glass everywhere, a broken wing—like a bird’s wing or something— then I saw this tablet and I just had to check if it was true and, well, just look!” he said, placing the slab of stone onto the table and sliding it towards Dean and Castiel. 

Dean tried to decipher what was on the stone, but all he could see were little squiggles and intricate geometric shapes. 

“I’m not seeing it,” Dean said. 

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Of course you won’t. It’s in Ancient Tran language. Okay, I’ve only translated a couple of lines so far. It says… ‘A storm of glass shall cut the flesh of man and fire shall drown an angel in ashes’,” he read from the tablet carefully. “Should the light that burns… or yearns… no wait, should the light that _burns_ to protect the world extinguish… the second son shall rise again and the world shall be lost in eternal shadow.” 

“That’s the prophecy?” Dean asked, glancing at Castiel to gauge his reaction. He looked as serious as usual, if a bit pale. But something in his eyes told Dean a different tale. If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say Castiel looked terrified. 

“It doesn’t necessarily spell end-of-the-world, does it?” Dean said, trying to be the voice of reason for once. “It’s talking about a light that we shouldn’t put out, or else this second son will rise. Who is this second son anyway? For all we know, this could be prophesying Prince Harry somehow inheriting the throne over William.” 

Kevin scoffed. “I don’t think British Royal Family would be the subject of my people’s ancient texts. That’s just ridiculous,” Kevin said. “The thing is, I knew this would happen… I knew nobody would believe me. I told my mom last night and she thinks it’s the Romney thing again—” 

“You were responsible for the Romney incident?” Dean said in disbelief. 

“God, it was one time okay! One time!” Kevin said, raising his hands in defeat. “Now nobody believes a word I say. Not even my mom.” 

“I believe you,” Castiel finally spoke, and he seemed to have recovered from his initial shock. “This tablet proves you have cause to be worried,” Castiel said, and Kevin looked at him hopefully. “But Dean is also right. From what I gather, the tablet does not directly allude to the end of the world, only that it is a possibility—just like every other time the Earth has faced a powerful threat.” 

“Dude, hostile invaders and death rays happen every year,” Dean decided to add. “And we always find a way to survive every one of them, whether it’s a product of skill or sheer luck. You just gotta trust that the world will keep on spinning no matter what,” Dean said, patting Kevin on the shoulder reassuringly. 

Kevin sniffs, looked at the tablet again for a few long moments before he sighed. “You’re right,” he finally relented. “It’s only a possibility. But just to be sure…” he said as he pulled out his cell phone. He took a couple of pictures of the tablet before pocketing his phone again. “I’m gonna try and decipher the rest of the tablet in my free time. Maybe there’s a way to make sure it doesn’t happen.” 

Dean grinned. “That’s the spirit!” 

Kevin smiled for the first time that afternoon. “Thanks guys. Now, could you please help me not get arrested? My mom would kill me.” 

“Leave it to me,” Dean said confidently. 

+++ 

“Why did we all need to be here?” Eleanor asked. She stood in the next room with Cupid the guard, and three other museum workers. 

“Is this everyone?” Dean asked, glancing at each of their curious faces. 

“Yes. Everyone who was involved in apprehending the suspect,” the guard replied. 

“Good,” Dean said. “I have here an important artifact that may interest you…” he said, pulling out his Neuralyzer. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, brandishing the Neuralyzer in front of them while he used his other hand to put on his Ray-Bans. They didn’t know what it was, of course, but it was always fun to make people guess. 

Eleanor didn’t seem very pleased. “Is this a joke?” 

“What is that, a sonic screwdriver?” a blonde intern quipped. Her other two companions, a guy with a bowl cut and a girl with coke-bottle glasses, looked at her like she was an even bigger nerd than they were. 

“Nope,” Dean answered. “Guess again.” 

“That looks like a shiny vibrator,” Cupid pointed out. Everyone stopped and looked at him in surprise. 

Dean gaped as he took a second look at the silver device in his hand. Damn. He would never be able to look at his Neuralyzer the same way again. 

The cheeky bastard felt a bit of remorse at his suggestion, blushing furiously as he said. “Come on, you were all thinking it.” 

Composing himself after his initial mortification, Dean said, “It’s not a screwdriver or a vi—a vib—never mind. It’s a Neuralyzer.” 

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Eleanor asked. 

“Well yeah,” Dean said with a smirk. “The best part is this,” he said, tapping his finger at the tip of the device. The moment everyone’s eyes fell on the Neuralyzer, Dean pressed the button. A bright light flashed, and a second later, Dean was left with five employees with dazed expressions and no memory of the past couple of hours. 

Dean pocketed his shades and Neuralyzer and looked at each of their blank faces. “So,” Dean began, his mind filled with all the possible replacement memories he could give them. In the end, he settled for the simplest one. 

“There was no intruder and we were never here. You,” he said to the three interns, “You guys were having a Doctor Who marathon during lunch and just conveniently forgot to come back to work for the rest of the afternoon. And you, Dr. Visyak, you rearranged the store room and the tablet just fell out of its box. In fact, you are going to reevaluate your security system because right now, you can’t even protect your artifacts from hysterical, genius high schoolers,” Dean paused, taking a deep breath. “As for you—“ he said, pointing to Cupid, “—you will avoid saying the word vibrator for at least a month. No, two months! Is that clear?” 

Cupid nodded, and everyone followed his lead and nodded as well. 

“Good,” Dean said, pleased. “Oh, and I’ll need access to all your surveillance footage for the past two hours.” 

Cupid nodded again. “It’s this way.” 

Dean grinned. Case closed. 

+++ 

“You broke into a museum?!” was Linda Tran’s furious words once she was reunited with her son in the MIB main lobby. 

“But I had a dream, mom!” Kevin tried to explain. 

“That is no excuse! That is it! You’re grounded. No Internet for you, young man.” 

Dean watched the whole exchange from Bobby’s office, chuckling at Kevin’s outraged “Mom, you can’t!” 

Bobby leafed through the pictures of the tablet that Kevin took on his phone and read the partial translation Kevin wrote on a piece of paper. “You think we should be worried about this, Dean?” 

“I dunno,” Dean shrugged, looking away from the window and taking his seat across from Castiel. “I mean, the Trans _can_ predict the future. And I hate to admit it, but the kid was right. His ancestors wouldn’t have carved it on a stone tablet if it wasn’t important.” 

“Castiel?” Bobby asked. “What do you think?” 

“I think it’s we should invest some time and effort into translating the whole tablet,” Castiel said. “It talks about the possibility of another apocalypse. Even if the prophecy may never come to pass, it’s still better to be prepared for it.” 

Bobby sipped his coffee as he considered Castiel’s words. “Alright. We’ll get the Tran’s help in translating the tablet. I’ll call in a favor to the museum director so we could transfer the tablet here.” 

“Museum director? As in Dr. Visyak?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah, she’s an old friend. Why?” Bobby asked. 

“I—uh… nothing. She was interrogating Kevin so I had to Neuralyze her along with a few of her employees,” Dean said. 

“Standard procedure,” Bobby said with a shrug. “Though she was probably just going along with ‘ye. She’s 900 years old and sorry boy but none of our fancy Neuralyzers work on her.” 

Dean’s eyebrows rose. The way Bobby talked about Eleanor made it painfully obvious they once had a thing going on. “I get the feeling you’ve already tried wiping her memory before,” he said. 

Bobby grunted. “Why don’t you make yourself productive and type up a formal report about this case and hand it to me before you leave for the day?” he said, ignoring Dean’s comment. 

Dean chuckled. “Alright, alright. Jeez. No need to be so pushy,” he teased. 

+++ 

“All this time, Bobby’s been hiding his 900-year-old alien ex-girlfriend from me? But I’m practically his son! I think I had a right to know,” Dean joked. He glanced at Castiel beside him to look for some reaction. There was none. He stopped at a light and turned to face him. “Something bothering you there, Cas?” Dean asked, realizing belatedly that Castiel had been unusually quiet since they left the museum. 

“It’s nothing,” Castiel said, and Dean could tell a lie once he saw one. “I thought you said agents aren’t allowed to have relations with aliens? But Bobby had one with Dr. Visyak?” he asked. 

Dean knew that wasn’t what was bothering Castiel, but he let it slide. Just another addition to things Castiel refused to tell him. 

The light turned green and Dean drove on. “It’s in the MIB regulations… but you know, it’s like one of those rules everyone breaks at least once and nobody ever complains anyway so…” 

“So, it’s okay?” Castiel asked. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Dean said. “Yeah,” he repeated with more conviction. 

Castiel smiled at that. “That’s good news. I was worried you might’ve felt guilty about the things we do—“ 

“Guilty?” Dean scoffed. “Is this the face of a man who feels guilty?” Dean said, grinning from ear to ear and facing Cas for a second. “No guilt here, man.” 

“Good,” Castiel said. “Because I would like to continue doing more.” 

“You do?” Dean asked, feeling his heart begin to race. Oh yeah, someone was getting lucky again tonight. 

“Yes. A lot more,” Castiel said, and jesus the way Castiel looked at him then, it made Dean feel naked. And so very aroused. 

Dean stepped so hard on the gas, it was a miracle they even managed to get back to the apartment in one piece. 

+++ 

Bobby didn’t assign Dean with traffic duty for the next few days, so he used this time to continue touring Castiel around the city. 

They returned to the Met Museum with Sam, who had his first day off in ages, and Sam ended up as their unofficial tour guide, with Castiel as his eager student. The two got along really well—his brother and his sort-of-alien-boyfriend—that Dean was just happy to tag along with them for the rest of the day. 

The next day, Dean managed to sneak Castiel out of Data Collection so they could go to the Statue of Liberty and, afterwards, take a stroll through Central Park. At some point, Dean realized their little tours almost felt like dates—and he found that he really didn’t mind. He actually liked the idea of dating Castiel. Going to all the places Castiel wanted to visit, learning all the new things he wanted to learn. In fact, in just a few days, Castiel’s probation would be over, and then he could travel anywhere he wanted. And the first place Dean would take him to was the Grand Canyon. 

Second place would probably be Disneyworld. 

+++ 


	6. Chapter 6

“Alien found dead in an alley behind a restaurant,” Bobby called him on the phone while they were eating dinner at home. Spaghetti and Meatballs courtesy of some Food Network show that Castiel watched the day before. 

“Really?!” Dean said excitedly. “A murder? We’ll be at HQ in ten minutes.” 

Dean could practically hear the eye roll in Bobby’s voice. “I don’t know whether to be bothered or not by your sudden interest in murders.” 

“I’m not interested in murders. I’m interested in catching the bad guys,” Dean said. 

“Fine,” Bobby said, and oh, there was the eye roll again in his voice. “Finish your dinner first. Then report to my office.” 

“Roger.” 

+++ 

Special services managed to keep the bystanders at a minimum when Dean and Castiel arrived to inspect the scene. 

“Just look around. Tell me if you spot anything unusual,” Dean instructed Castiel as they approached the body. It looked like someone slit the man’s throat. But the blood that covered the pavement and the man’s clothes was neon green, and a few feet away lay the man’s scalp—or rather, his very elaborate wig. “Aww damn,” Dean said, shaking his head. 

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked, but he looked distracted. Like something smelled foul. It must have been the dumpster the dead alien lay beside. Dean didn’t envy his super senses right now. 

Dean walked around the body at a safe distance. “Recognize this guy?” he asked Castiel. 

Castiel tilted his head to get a better look at the alien on the floor. “Yes, unfortunately. His name is Bert, from planet Gluteus Maximus… he was in the Relocation Division with me. Friendly fellow… likes to hug.” 

“Yeah. New resident, just like you,” Dean said before taking out his phone and making a call to Bobby. 

One of the special services guys came up to them at that moment. “We have the busboy here, he saw the body,” he said, pointing to a thin, teenage kid huddled on the steps of the backdoor of a restaurant. 

Just then, Bobby answered his phone, and Dean contemplated calling him back, but Castiel was already walking to the boy. “Hold on a sec,” he told Bobby on the phone. 

“You’re gonna try and talk to him, Cas?” Dean asked. 

Castiel nodded and approached the kid. Dean remembered how Castiel talked to Kevin before. He wasn’t so bad, so Dean just shrugged and turned his attention back to his phone. 

“So, what’s the situation?” Bobby asked. 

“Dead Butthead, throat was slashed. It was a new immigrant,” Dean reported. 

“And? What do you think happened?” 

“Don’t know yet. Could be a robbery gone bad. We’re still interrogating a witness,” Dean said, sparing Castiel a glance. “I’ll call you when we get more details.” 

“Alright. Watch out for Castiel,” Bobby reminded Dean. 

“Never took my eyes off him,” Dean said. 

“Yeah, ‘s what Ash has been telling me,” Bobby said, his tone implying just what Ash was spilling to him. 

“I’m gonna kill that bastard when I get back,” Dean growled. 

“Look, just keep your shit together, and I don’t care where you’re putting your—“ 

“—B, I get it! I get it!” Dean interrupted. 

“Alright, just get back to work,” Bobby said before hanging up. 

Dean turned back to Castiel, an embarrassed blush on his cheeks because he just knew the alien heard every last word of that conversation. “So?” he asked. They walked a few paces away, while behind them, the boy was Neuralyzed by a member of the secret service. 

“He didn’t see anything. Also, he’s asking why, uhm, why he has a butt on his head.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“That it was a birth defect,” Castiel replied. 

“Good thinking,” Dean said. “What else did he tell you?” 

“He said the victim ate lunch at their restaurant. He didn’t see him leave because he was too distracted by table number 4, where two ladies were dining. He said they were very… uh, alluring,” Castiel said, trying to paraphrase the boy correctly. 

“Huh,” Dean said. “Let’s see if they have security cameras inside.” 

+++ 

When Dean and Castiel entered the restaurant, Castiel’s expression went grave. 

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked. 

“I’m not sure…” Castiel said, weaving slowly through the tables to this small, round table at the side. He circled the table once, twice, before laying his palm on the stained red tablecloth. 

Dean watched as the blood from Castiel’s face drained and he looked like he was about to puke or faint or both. “You okay?” he asked, extending a hand to touch Castiel’s arm. The moment he did, though, Castiel flinched, and looked at Dean with fear in his eyes. 

“I—I’m not. It’s the, uh, the alien mojo of the killer. Can I go home now?” 

“Why—is this where the killer sat?” Dean asked, pulling his scanner out and waving it above the chair in front of him. 

“Killers,” Castiel corrected. “If I’m right, they would be the alluring women the boy was talking about,” he said hurriedly. “Can I go home now?” he repeated, looking paler than before. 

“Uh, yeah, of course. Come on,” Dean said, leading Castiel out of the restaurant. 

He gripped Castiel’s arm and helped him sit inside the Impala. He didn’t know what was wrong with Castiel, but he must have been having a bad reaction to the killers’ alien abilities. It was not unheard of, especially since Castiel’s senses were very sharp. He would take Castiel back to the apartment, and if he got worse, he’d call medical to check on him immediately. “Just sit here, I’ll have somebody pull the surveillance video from the restaurant,” Dean told him, hesitating for a moment to leave a ghost-white Castiel alone. 

Castiel just bit his bottom lip and nodded. 

It took Dean no more than two minutes to instruct somebody to get the CCTV tapes from inside the restaurant. But when he returned to the Impala, Castiel was gone. 

“Sonnovabitch,” he cursed under his breath. “Castiel?!” he called out, looking for the alien’s trench coat among the bystanders and the people walking past. He was nowhere. 

Dean dialed Ash’s number with furious fingers. “You got visual on Castiel?” 

“Wait, uh, you lost him?” Ash asked, and Dean could hear the sound of keyboards clacking. 

“I wouldn’t ask if he were here. Where is he?” 

“Gimme a second…” Ash said. After a heartbeat, he said, “Found him.” 

“Where?” 

“Central Park. By the Bethesda Fountain.” 

“Is he alright?” Dean asked, getting in his car and turning the ignition on. 

“I think so. He’s… he’s talking to someone. No wait—“ 

“Who’s he talking to?” Dean asked, stepping on the gas. 

“Dude, he’s talking to two hot chicks man. A blonde and brunette. The blonde’s got this hot dentist assistant thing going on, dibs man.” 

“Not the time for jokes Ash,” Dean said. “Those could be our killers.” 

“Whoa, killers?” Shit man. Those chicks killed the butthead?” 

“I’m not 100% on that. I asked somebody to send you the footage from the CCTV inside the restaurant. I want you to pull up traffic cams and nearby surveillance footage. See if you can spot those two women Castiel’s with now.” 

“Right, doing it now,” Ash said. “Want me to send back up to Castiel’s location?” 

“Yes. But tell them not to engage Castiel or the two women unless I say so. And don’t take your eyes off of him, Ash,” Dean ordered, but his voice cracked a bit and it sounded more like a plea. 

If Ash noticed, he didn’t say a word about it. “Will do,” he said before he hung up. 

Dean drove faster than he’d ever driven before. He kept thinking back to Castiel’s confession. He wasn’t a refugee; he was exiled for disobedience. And these aliens might be after him. “Dammit Cas, why couldn’t you have just stayed put?” 

+++ 

“They were definitely in the restaurant. Followed the victim out. Caught them at a traffic cam, and dude, they have these weird eyes. Like they were glowing rainbows or something. Like some trippy lightshow,” Ash reported. 

“Fuck,” Dean cursed. So these two were like Castiel. If so, then they were strong. Not even MIB’s agents could stop them from hurting Castiel. He just hoped Cas could handle them if things got really bad. “Okay, order a complete evacuation of Central Park. Now.” 

“Whoa, _all_ of Central Park? Not just Bethesda Terrace?” 

“Just do it. And do it as quickly as you can.” 

“Jeez, alright. Ash out!” 

+++ 

Dean arrived at the fountain exactly nine minutes since he left the scene of the crime. From afar, he could see them calmly talking, the two women standing about a couple of meters away from Castiel, and Castiel’s back was stiff. 

Dean signaled the MIB personnel to stand down as he approached. At least, this part of Central Park was devoid of any civilians—although hats and umbrellas and even a couple of food carts were just left strewn all over the place, suggesting they might have run away in fear rather than being evacuated by MIB. In any case, there’d be less casualties if shit did hit the fan. 

Castiel caught Dean at the corner of his eye, and he cringed ever so slightly. 

“Oh how quaint, you have a human helping you,” the blonde said, while the brunette just looked bored. 

“What are you doing here, Dean?” Castiel asked, clearly displeased. 

“I could ask you the same question,” Dean said as he stepped beside him. “Ladies,” he said with a nod. 

“We were negotiating,” the blonde supplied, her wide mouth twisting into this evil-looking grin. 

“Oh?” Dean asked. “What about?” 

The brunette looked at Dean and smirked. “His life in exchange for your puny planet.” 

Dean made a face as if contemplating it. “Sounds like a bad deal to me,” he said. “See, he’s only been here less than a month. I doubt he’d care about our planet… so even if you destroy the Earth, he can just escape, and your little revenge plan would be for nothing. You should think about a better trade than that.” 

“Dean,” Castiel said, a little reprimanding. “I can handle this.” 

“Hey, I get a say in this too, they’re using my planet as a bargaining chip,” Dean said. 

The blonde laughed. “This is too funny,” she said, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “They don’t know, do they, Castiel?” she asked. “You’re pathetic,” she spat. 

Castiel flinched, and Dean tried not to bite the bait, even if he was really curious to know what she was saying. “Pathetic or not, I bet Cas can take the two of you. Otherwise, you would’ve come alone, blondie.” 

This seemed to irk the blonde. “It’s _Lilith_ , you insignificant monkey.” 

“Whatever,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes. 

“You’ve really sunk so low, Castiel,” the brunette chose to speak this time. “Choosing these _humans_ ,” she said the word like it was a foul disease, “over your own kind. There’s not even anything special about them,” she said, looking Dean up and down in disgust. “And you… Dean, right? Do you even know who you’re associating with? This guy will soon be responsible for the death of his home planet, as well as the other planets and stars in the Hale system. He… is a mass murderer.” 

Dean tried not to react to this, but it was hard. He knew they were bluffing. 

“You think we’re lying,” Lilith said. “Do you even know why he’s here? He disobeyed Michael’s order. In order for Lucifer to rise from the pit, a ritual was performed here on Earth. He had a chance to stop it: he was ordered to destroy Earth to stop the ritual. Earth! An insignificant planet he didn’t even know existed until that moment. But what did he do? He chickened out at the last minute. Poof!” she said with a laugh. “He saved your filthy little ball of dirt and aided Lucifer in his rise. Now there’s no stopping Lucifer from taking over the Hale system.” 

Dean felt the blood drain from his face. “Is that true?” Dean asked Castiel. 

“Dean—“ Castiel pleaded. 

“You’re aiding Lucifer?” Dean asked in disbelief. 

Castiel looked like he was burned. “No. I would never,” he said. 

“Bullshit,” Dean said, pulling his gun out and aiming it at Castiel’s head. Castiel looked at him like a wounded animal. “It all makes sense now… why you never told me the reason you were exiled. So why’d you come here, Cas? To finish the job?” 

“No,” Castiel answered, his voice a little harder than before. 

Never taking his gun away from Castiel, he looked at the two ladies. “If I kill him, will you two leave?” 

Lilith grinned. “Sure, whatever.” 

Dean pressed a button on his gun and the sound of it charging seemed too loud even to his regular human ears. 

Castiel didn’t move an inch. He stared at Dean’s face the whole time, his face devoid of expression. “Do it,” Castiel said. 

“I will,” Dean said, and just as his finger pressed the trigger, he swung his arm, and aimed directly at Lilith. 

The gun fired and shot Lilith straight in the forehead. It seemed to have no effect, until suddenly, Castiel appeared in front of her, his face grave, as he pressed his hand on her forehead. In that instant, light started to pour out from her wound and in between Castiel’s fingers. Ruby watched in horror, and Dean didn’t have time to see what was going to happen to her; Castiel turned to him and yelled, “Close your eyes!” 

Dean didn’t need to be told twice, and just as his eyes closed, a piercing sound filled the air and a bright light erupted, and Dean fell to his knees from the sheer force of it. 

Behind him, an abandoned food cart started shaking, and then the glass case exploded, sending hotdogs and buns and shards of broken glass flying everywhere. 

When the sound stopped and the light dissipated, Dean cautiously opened his eyes again. There he saw Castiel, standing in front of the lifeless body of Lilith on the floor, her eyes blank white, and the ashes of large wings, not like a bird, but more like a massive dragon’s, spread from behind her back and stained the floor as well as a large portion of the fountain. 

Castiel turned his gaze to the brunette, who was trying to stand her ground, even if her shoulders were shaking slightly. 

“Surrender, Ruby. I don’t want to kill anyone of my own kind again anytime soon. But if you threaten me or this planet, I won’t hesitate to do it again,” he said, and Dean even felt chills run down his spine at how damn intimidating Castiel seemed at that moment. 

Dean instructed the MIB agents to approach, and all of them trained their weapons on Ruby. She looked around her then back at Castiel, before she raised her hands in the air. The MIB agents swooped in and restrained her, and Castiel sat on the lip of the fountain with a sigh. 

Dean sat beside him and they watched as Ruby was taken away. “You think they can restrain her?” he asked Castiel. 

“It will be fine. I taught Agent B a few ways to restrain my kind.” 

“Really,” Dean said with a huff of relieved laughter. “Man you gotta fill me in on these things, alright.” 

Castiel turned to Dean. “You didn’t shoot me,” he stated. 

“Yeah, I didn’t,” Dean said with a small smile. 

“Why? I had thought you believed what Lilith said. That I am in league with Lucifer.” 

“Nah. You’re not a very good liar, you know?” Dean said. “And dude, no offense, but sacrificing yourself to save other beings billions of light years away in a planet you’ve never even heard of! That is exactly the stupid thing I expect you to do.” 

Castiel smiled, and Dean thought that was the sweetest smile he’s ever seen Castiel make. 

“So how exactly were you going to destroy Earth back then? I mean, you can actually do that? Like you’ve got enough alien mojo in you to make the Earth explode?” 

Castiel looked ashamed. “I was going to destroy it. We’re, how do you say this? My kind are like light bulbs…” 

Dean barked out a laugh at that analogy. “Okay.” 

“We can channel our light into a ray of energy—“ 

The word ‘ray’ made Dean’s breath catch in his throat. “Ray?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “If we turn it ‘on’ and channel enough of our light outside our bodies, we can destroy planets and stars. I sent out my energy across the universe to destroy Earth. But like a light bulb, I can also switch it off when I want to.” 

While Castiel spoke, Dean remembered the day two months ago, when he stood beside Sam in MIB watching the timer countdown to Earth’s destruction as a death ray sped towards Earth. “And you switched it off,” Dean said, almost in a daze. 

Castiel nodded. 

“That was you,” Dean said breathlessly. “I remember that day,” he said. “I remember thinking that was it. We were going to die.” 

There were unshed tears in Castiel’s eyes, his heart aching at Dean’s words. “I’m sorry,” he said brokenly. 

“No,” Dean said. “Why are you saying sorry? You turned it off. You didn’t destroy Earth. And you got punished for it. Why? Why’d you do it? You’ve never even been to Earth until now.” 

Castiel tried to shrug but he couldn’t make light of the conversation that easily. “I didn’t need to. I only had to think of all the creatures that lived here, all the plants and animals and sentient beings. All the children… and all the families. And I couldn’t do it.” 

“But why’d you come here? I mean, you were exiled, right? Why’d you come here if we’re the reason you lost your home and your family?” Dean asked. 

“I guess,” Castiel said, before he heaved a heavy sigh. “I guess I wanted to convince myself I did the right thing. I wanted to see what this world was like, and if it was worth risking the fate of my own world over.” 

Dean felt like his chest was going to explode with every word out of Castiel’s mouth. He just couldn’t believe it. This wonderful man—no alien, was so selfless and stupid it’s unreal. “And? What do you think? D’you think you made the right choice?” Dean asked, leaning closer to Castiel. 

A smile traced Castiel’s lips as he stared into Dean’s eyes. After a long pause he said, “Yes. Yes I did.” 

And Dean leaned further into Castiel’s space and kissed him. 

It might have been cliché, but Dean felt the kiss last for eternity in that few seconds. Like in that moment, he saw the universe through Castiel’s eyes, and he didn’t want to let go of it. When eventually they parted, Dean smiled and adjusted Castiel’s coat on his shoulders. 

“What do you say we go eat some burgers and pie? And when you’re ready, let’s interrogate that Ruby chick and maybe you can find your way home again.” 

“I’d like that,” Castiel said. 

They stood up from the fountain and started walking away, but Dean flinched when he felt a sharp pain on his arm. He looked down and saw his jacket was torn and there was blood staining the fabric . “Damn, I liked this jacket.” 

“You’re hurt,” Castiel said in worry. “What happened?” 

“It’s nothing,” Dean said. “Just probably got cut by some of the broken glass from the hotdog cart,” he said, and he was about to shrug it off when a thought occurred to him. “Glass…” he whispered. 

He looked back at the fountain. “Hey Cas? You remember Kevin’s prophecy?” 

“Yes,” 

“Well, look at that,” he said, pointing to the fountain. 

Castiel turned around and noticed the top of the fountain for the first time. Blackened by the ashes of Lilith’s wings, there stood the statue of the Angel of the Water. 

“A storm of glass shall cut the flesh of man and fire shall drown an angel in ashes…” Castiel recited. “So, is this what the prophecy was referring to?” 

“I guess so,” Dean said with a chuckle. “And I thought the Trans’ prophecy didn’t include trivial things. A frigging hotdog cart exploded and I’m hit by the glass… and they predicted it.” 

Castiel smiled. “I’m sure it seemed important at the time they wrote the tablet.” 

+++ 

After a few days of interrogation, they found out that Lilith and Ruby weren’t out for revenge over Castiel, but were actually the ones who did the ritual to free Lucifer from the Pit. It was only by chance that they found out Castiel was on Earth—their superhuman senses smelled a very faint trace of Castiel on the Butthead, and they killed him to flesh Castiel out. Then they planned to kill Castiel and offer his body to Lucifer as a war prize. But that was about as much as they could get out from her. Ruby refused to share any important information about Lucifer’s plans, and Castiel was left with a difficult decision. 

“I have to bring her back to our planet,” Castiel told Dean while they sat on the sofa, watching another cooking show on Food Network. 

“Why? We can crack her in time,” Dean said. 

“We have… methods to extract information from our enemies—including those of our kind. This could save Hale System.” 

Dean frowned. “But they exiled you. Technically you’re a criminal to them. If you go back…” 

“If I go back, they might imprison me or worse,” Castiel finished for him. 

“And you still want to go back?” Dean asked. 

“Wouldn’t you?” Castiel asked. “If you knew it might save Earth…” 

Dean stared at Castiel’s eyes, searching for an answer he could say. Eventually, he gave up. “Yeah, I’ll go back… but can’t you just phone home and ask someone to come here and escort Ruby home?” 

“It has to be me, Dean,” Castiel said. 

“Why?” 

“You recall the second line that Kevin translated?” Castiel asked. “Should the light that burns to protect the world extinguish, the second son shall rise again and the world shall be lost in eternal shadow,” Castiel recited. 

“Yeah?” Dean asked, and he had a feeling he already knew where this was going. 

“Lucifer was my father’s second son,” he admitted. “The prophecy was saying that if my brother succeeds in taking over Hale, it will not bode well for the Earth.” 

Dean was quiet for a moment. 

“I have to go back Dean,” Castiel said. 

Dean sighed. “Alright. I guess you’re right,” he finally agreed. “We just have to keep that part of the prophecy from coming true. Keep the light that protects the world alive,” he said looking at Castiel meaningfully. 

Castiel looked back at Dean, and they didn’t need to say it out loud, because they both knew what it meant. Castiel was the light that protected the world. And Castiel had to go back and keep on fighting with his family, because that was the only way they could stop Lucifer. 

Castiel smiled, but it was a bittersweet one. “Thank you for understanding.” 

“You’ll write me though. Or send me a phone call or whatever. You talked to Bobby before you came here so don’t tell me it’s impossible,” Dean said, not caring that he sounded like a petulant kid. 

Castiel chuckled. “Yes, I will call.” 

“Alright,” Dean said. He faced the TV once again. “You’re getting the recipe for this pie right? Cause you’re making this for me before you leave.” 

“Don’t worry, I got it,” Castiel reassured him. 

Castiel baked the pie for Dean the next day, and it was the best pie he had ever tasted. 

+++

**Epilogue**

_One Year Later_

“You’re looking more menacing than usual,” Sam joked as he strutted into the office he once shared with Dean. 

“Shut it,” Dean glowered, typing down furiously. “I’m having a headache with this report.” 

“How long has it been?” Sam asked, sitting on a chair in front of Dean’s desk. 

“How long has what been?” Dean played ignorant. 

“Since Castiel contacted you,” Sam supplied. 

Dean stopped typing and glared at Sam. “Shouldn’t you be at the legal department doing actual work, you know, like the rest of us here?” His brother finally got over his hang ups and took the Intergalactic Bar a couple of months ago, and like everyone expected, he passed it with flying colors. Dean was so proud of his brother that he didn’t even stop to think he’d lose the only partner he’s ever known. To him, it didn’t matter that he was left alone. What mattered more was Sam doing what was important to him. And so was Castiel. 

Sam chuckled. “Is it a sin to ask how my brother’s doing? I worry about you too, you know?” Sam said, his tone a little more somber. 

Dean’s irritation simmered down at Sam’s words. “I’m doing okay,” he said, not bothering to sugarcoat it. “And before you say anything, I’ve functioned on something far less than ‘okay’ for a long time.” 

“That bad, huh?” Sam asked. 

Dean didn’t know what to answer, so he just settled for a shrug. “What can you do, huh? It’s not like I can just go and visit him when I want to,” he said. 

“It’ll be fine,” Sam said, standing up again. 

“How do you know?” Dean asked as he watched Sam walk towards the door. 

“I don’t,” he said, opening the door. “Oh!” he said, remembering something. “I almost forgot why I came here. B needs to talk to you.” 

“Huh?” Dean asked, looking out his window to Bobby’s office. “He’s not there.” 

“He’s at Training,” Sam said. 

Dean groaned. “Is he gonna push another newbie to be my partner?” 

“You know you can’t keep working in the field without a partner, D. Or else B will give you parking ticket duties,” Sam said. “Come on, B’s waiting.” 

Reluctantly pulling himself up from his seat, Dean followed Sam out of the room. “I still get to pick my partner, and if this kid looks like he hasn’t even touched another woman—or a man--, I’m out.” 

Sam laughed. “I don’t think you’re gonna have a problem with that,” he said, and just as he said that, they rounded a corner and Bobby was there, talking to someone. 

Dean took one more step and saw a familiar rumpled trench coat. 

It was Castiel. 

And damn, looking just as good as he remembered. 

“D,” Bobby began. “I’ve got a candidate for your partner.” 

“You sonnovabitch,” Dean said, a wide grin forming on his face as he approached them. 

Castiel smiled. “Hello, Dean.” 

Without any hesitation, Dean just walked straight to Castiel and hugged him really tight. “Why didn’t you guys say anything?” 

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Castiel said. “Are you surprised?” he asked, a little more unsure this time. 

“Hell yeah! So, are you staying for good? What about Lucifer, your planet?” 

Castiel smiled. “Lucifer is still at large. But we’ve reduced his forces considerably thanks to Ruby’s information,” he explained. “I can always visit my planet every now and then.” 

“Awesome,” Dean said with a chuckle. 

“So, have you made a decision?” Sam asked. 

“I haven’t got all day,” Bobby grumbled. 

“What decision?” Dean asked. 

“You wanna try this rookie out as your new partner?” Bobby asked. 

Dean and Castiel exchanged glances. “Hell yeah.” 

“Finally,” Bobby said, heaving a sigh of relief. “Alright. Agent D, why don’t you get Castiel ready.” 

“Great. Let’s go put it on,” Dean said, slinging an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. 

Castiel cocked his head to the side. “Put what on?” 

“The last suit you’ll ever wear,” Dean said with a grin. 

Castiel nodded. “Alright. Can I keep my trench coat?” he asked. 

“Sure,” Dean said, chuckling. 

“Welcome to Men in Black, Agent C.” 

+++

Thank you for reading! 


End file.
